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LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 
CHICAGO.  ILLINOIS 


THE  BIKER  A  TAYLOR  COMPANY 

»IW  TOU 

THE  CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 
UMDOI 

THE  MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA 
TOITO,  OIAIA,  noio,  rviL'uiA,  inroAi 

THE  MISSION  BOOK  COMPANY 
IBAMBAJ 


LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 


AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE 

HISTORICAL  STUDY  OF 

LANGUAGE 


By 
E.  H.  STURTEVANT 

Formerly  Assistant  Professor  of  Classical  Philology  in 
Columbia  University 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 
CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS 


COPYRIGHT  1917  BY 
THE  UNIVERSITY  or  CHICAGO 


All  Rights  Reserved 


Published  October  1917 
Second  Impression  December  1921 


Composed  and  Printed  By 

The  University  of  Chicazo  Prms 

Chicago,  Illinois,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

This  little  book,  which  has  grown  out  of  lectures  to 
students  beginning  their  scientific  study  of  language, 
is  primarily  intended  as  a  textbook  for  similar  introduc- 
tory courses.  It  is  hoped,  however,  that  it  will  appeal 
to  a  wider  public,  and  consequently  technical  terms  and 
symbols  that  are  not  familiar  to  all  educated  people 
have  been  eliminated  as  far  as  possible.  Some  readers 
will  be  offended  at  the  lack  of  any  exact  system  of 
phonetic  notation;  but  such  a  notation  would  have 
required  a  long  explanation,  which  some  readers  would 
have  skipped,  and  which  would  have  caused  others  to 
lay  the  book  aside.  No  real  ambiguity  seems  to  result 
from  our  attempt  to  use  ordinary  symbols  and  terms 
in  their  familiar  values. 

Since  the  book  is  the  result  of  reading  and  thought 
extending  over  more  than  fifteen  years,  the  author 
cannot  now  recall  the  source  of  each  idea  expressed. 
He  is  under  obligation  at  some  point  or  many  to  most 
of  the  standard  works  on  linguistics.  In  addition  to 
books  mentioned  in  the  text  and  to  the  handbooks  which 
stand  at  the  elbow  of  every  linguist,  we  may  specify 
Paul  Passy's  Petite  phonetique  comparee  and  Leonard 
Bloomfield's  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Language. 
Much  of  the  book,  perhaps  more  than  the  author  is 
aware,  is  traceable  to  the  classroom  lectures  of  Professors 
William  Gardner  Hale,  Frank  Frost  Abbott,  and  Carl 
Darling  Buck.  Dr.  W.  M.  Patterson  has  read  and 


vi  PREFACE 

corrected  the  section  on  rhythm.  Professors  Roland  G. 
Kent  and  Charles  Knapp  have  read  the  book  in  manu- 
script, and  their  criticism  has  improved  it  in  many 
places.  Professor  Knapp  has  also  read  the  proof. 

E.  H.  STURTEVANT 
COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 
July,  1917 


CHAPTER 

I.  INTRODUCTION  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE 

1.  Relation  between  Speech  and  Writing  ....  i 

a)  Development  of  Alphabets 2 

b)  Imperfections  of  Alphabets 6 

2.  The  Analysis  of  Language 10 

3.  Phonetics 14 

a)  Consonants 15 

b)  Vowels 17 

c)  Syllables 21 

4.  Relation  between  Form  and  Meaning    ....  23 

5.  Imitation 24 

6.  Change  in  Language 29 

II.  PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM 32 

1.  Mistakes  during  the  Learning  of  a  Language  .     .  33 
o)  Defective  Hearing 33 

b)  Defective  Reproduction 34 

c)  Learning  Foreign  Languages 36 

2.  Associative  Interference 37 

a)  Analogy 38 

(1)  Analogy  Based  on  Meaning  Groups      .     .  38 

(2)  Analogy  Based  on  Functional  Groups  .      .  40 

(3)  Analogical  Creation 42 

6)  Association  within  the  Sentence 44 

(1)  Anticipation 44 

(2)  Repetition 49 

(3)  Metathesis 50 

(4)  Dissimilation 52 

3.  Rhythm 56 

o)  Stress-Rhythm 57 

b)  Pitch-Rhythm 59 

c)  Quantitative  Rhythm 60 

4.  Speed  of  Utterance 60 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

5.  Ease  of  Articulation 61 

6.  Spelling  and  Pronunciation 65 

7.  Custom  and  Pronunciation 65 

8.  Unknown  Factors 66 

III.  SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM 68 

1.  Changes  Affecting  Several  Words 68 

a)  Empirical  Description 68 

(1)  Usually  Regular 68 

(2)  Sometimes  Irregular 74 

(3)  Gradual  Spread 76 

b)  Explanation 78 

(1)  Gradual  Change 78 

(2)  Sudden  Change 79 

2.  Isolated  Changes 82 

a)  Causes  of  Isolation 82 

(1)  Fewness  of  Models 82 

(2)  Association  of  Change  with  Meaning    .      .  83 

b)  Contrast  with  Regular  Change 83 

IV.  CHANGE  OF  MEANING 85 

1.  Semantic  Change  Erratic 85 

2.  Types  of  Semantic  Change 86 

a)  Shift  of  Emphasis 86 

b)  Worn-out  Figures  of  Speech 89 

c)  More  Specific  Meaning  Due  to  a  Modifier  .      .  92 

d)  More  General  Meaning  Due  to  a  Pleonastic 
Modifier 93 

e)  Analogical  Change  of  Meaning 94 

3.  Semantic  Rivalry 96 

o)  Survival  of  Several  Meanings 97 

b)  Loss  of  One  of  Several  Meanings      ....  97 

V.  CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY 99 

i.  Reasons  for  the  Loss  of  Words 99 

a)  Loss  of  Ideas 99 

b)  Exact  Synonymy 99 

c)  Taboo IDC 


CONTENTS  ix 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

2.  Reasons  for  the  Rise  of  New  Words      ....  103 

a)  New  Ideas 103 

V)  Desire  for  Novelty 107 

c)  Taboo 108 

d)  Change  of  Model 109 

3.  Sources  of  New  Words 109 

a)  Analogical  creation 109 

(1)  Composition no 

(2)  Derivation 113 

(a)  Suffixes 113 

(6)  Prefixes 118 

(c)  Significant  Change  in  the  Body  of  a 
Word 118 

(d)  Inverse  Derivation 120 

b)  Variant  Forms 121 

c)  Loan-Words 121 

d)  Words  from  Proper  Names 125 

e)  Original  Creation 127 

(1)  Interjections  from  Expression  Movements 

and  the  Like 128 

(2)  Imitation  of  Movements  and  Sounds  of 
Nature 129 

VI.  CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX 131 

1.  Analogy 131 

a)  Meaning  Groups 131 

(1)  Of  Words  or  of  Sentences 131 

(2)  Of  Words  and  Sentences 133 

b)  Functional  Groups 135 

c)  Formal  Groups 135 

2.  Change  of  Form 137 

3.  Change  of  Meaning 139 

a)  Shift  of  Emphasis 139 

b)  More  Specific  Meaning  Due  to  a  Modifier  .      .  143 

c)  More  General  Meaning  Due  to  a  Pleonastic 
Modifier 143 

d)  Figures  of  Speech 144 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VII.  LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT 146 

i.  Linguistic  Variation 147 

a)  Division  of  a  Community 147 

b)  Variation  within  a  Community 148 

c)  Dialect  Mixture 151 

d)  Rate  of  Variation 152 

a.  Classification  of  Speech 153 

3.  Growth  of  Larger  Linguistic  Communities       .     .  155 

a)  Common  Language 155 

6)  Literary  Language 155 

c)  Standard  Language 157 

VIII.  The  TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT      .     .     .  159 

1.  Adequacy 160 

a)  Mental  Horizon 160 

b)  Analysis 161 

(1)  Substantive  States  of  Consciousness     .     .  161 

(2)  Transitive  States  of  Consciousness  .     .     .  162 

c)  Association 167 

2.  Convenience 171 

o)  Regularity I71 

b)  Economy 172 

(1)  Avoidance  of  Repetition 172 

(2)  Significant  Word-Order         172 

(3)  Short  Words 173 

(4)  A  Test  of  Economy 174 

3.  Can  We  Assist  Linguistic  Improvement  ?   .     .     .  175 

INDEX 179 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE 
Relation  between  Speech  and  Writing 

There  is  a  widespread  impression  that  the  written 
word  is  the  norm  or  model  of  human  speech  while  the 
spoken  word  is  a  more  or  less  faulty  imitation.  It  is  not 
hard  to  see  how  such  a  feeling  originated.  Written 
discourse,  particularly  if  printed,  is  in  general  composed 
by  the  more  gifted  and  careful  members  of  a  community, 
and  people  take  more  pains  with  their  style  in  writing 
than  in  speaking.  Then  again,  the  content  of  books 
is  as  a  rule  more  interesting  and  valuable  than  that  of 
ordinary  speech.  In  the  experience  of  most  of  us  con- 
versation is  trivial  and  ungrammatical,  while  written 
language  has  some  value  and  is  usually  correct.  So  the 
feeling  has  spread  abroad  that  the  language  of  books  is 
the  norm  on  which  speech  should  be  modeled  and  by 
which  it  must  be  judged,  and  to  a  certain  extent  this 
feeling  is  justified. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  whether  we  think  of 
the  history  of  human  speech  in  general  or  of  the  lin- 
guistic experience  of  the  individual  speaker,  spoken 
language  is  the  primary  phenomenon,  and  writing  is  only 
a  more  or  less  imperfect  reflection  of  it.  We  all  learn  to 
understand  speech  before  we  learn  to  read,  and  to  speak 
before  we  learn  to  write.  We  all  hear  more  language 
than  we  read  and  speak  a  great  deal  more  than  we  write. 
Spoken  language  is  ordinarily  more  flexible  than  written 


2  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

language;  it  leads  the  way  in  linguistic  development, 
while  written  language  follows  at  a  greater  or  less 
interval.  The  exact  relationship  between  the  two  will 
be  clearer  if  we  examine  briefly  the  origin  and  develop- 
ment of  writing. 

Development  of  Alphabets 

The  picture-language  of  the  American  Indians  be- 
longs to  the  most  primitive  type,  in  which  the  sense  is 
entirely  independent  of  spoken  language — in  order  to 


FIG.  i 

understand  a  document  it  is  not  necessary  to  know  the 
language  of  the  writer,  but  merely  to  be  familiar  with  the 
general  principles  of  the  system.  Fig.  i  is  a  reproduc- 
tion of  a  letter  from  an  Indian  chief  to  the  president  of 
the  United  States,1  the  original  of  which  is  in  colors. 
Figures  are  inserted  for  convenience  of  reference.  The 
identity  of  the  recipient  of  the  letter  (8)  is  indicated 
by  the  fact  that  he  has  a  white  face  and  stands  in 

1  Reproduction  and  interpretation  (in  the  main)  are  from  School- 
craft,  Historical  and  Statistical  Information  Respecting  the  Indian  Tribes 
of  the  United  States,  I,  418(1.;  cf.  Wundt,  Volkcr  psychologic,  Die  Sprache1, 
I,  '35  f- 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  3 

a  white  house,  that  is,  "to  the  white  man  in  the 
White  House."  The  writer  (i)  identifies  himself  as  be- 
longing to  a  tribe  of  the  eagle  totem  and  marks  himself 
as  a  chief  by  the  lines  rising  from  his  head;  his  extended 
arm  denotes  an  offer  of  peace  and  friendship.  The  four 
eagles  behind  (2,  3,  4,  5)  represent  warriors  of  his,  who 
are  also  of  the  eagle  totem.  The  figure  in  the  rear  (6) 
represents  another  warrior,  who  is  of  the  catfish  totem. 
No.  9  is  pictured  merely  as  a  man  instead  of  being  iden- 
tified by  his  totem.  That  he,  as  well  as  No.  i,  is  a  chief 
is  shown  by  the  lines  rising  from  his  head,  and  their 
number  indicates  that  he  is  the  more  powerful  of  the  two. 
The  lines  connecting  the  eyes  of  the  various  persons 
indicate  harmony  of  view  and  purpose.  The  houses 
under  three  of  the  warriors  indicate  that  they  will 
hereafter  live  in  houses,  that  is,  will  become  civilized. 
The  letter  may  be  read  as  follows:  "I,  a  chief  of  the 
eagle  totem,  several  of  my  warriors,  who  belong  to  the 
eagle  totem,  another  of  the  catfish  totem,  and  a  certain 
chief  who  is  more  powerful  than  I,  are  assembled  and 
offer  our  friendship  to  you,  the  white  man  in  the  White 
House.  We  all  hold  the  same  views  and  hope  that  you 
will  too.  Three  of  my  warriors  intend  to  live  in  houses." 
Several  of  these  ideas  are  more  explicitly  put  in  our  verbal 
interpretation  than  in  the  original  pictograph,  but  there 
is  no  doubt  as  to  the  general  purport  of  the  letter. 

The  development  of  alphabetic  signs  from  such  a 
system  as  this  can  be  most  easily  seen  in  Egyptian.  We 
cannot  actually  trace  the  evolution  in  the  extant  texts; 
for  the  Egyptian  system  of  writing  changes  only  in 
unessential  details  in  the  more  than  four  thousand  years 
that  are  covered  by  our  records.  But  the  system  in 


4  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

use  from  the  earliest  monuments  down  contains  clear 
traces  of  its  origin  and  prehistoric  development. 

It  is  only  rarely  that  one  meets  in  Egyptian  anything 
really  analogous  to  the  Indian  picture-writing,  but  there 
are  enough  such  cases  to  show  that  Egyptian  has  passed 
through  a  similar  stage.  For  example,  the  sign  for  the 
west  J  has  arms  attached  with  which  it  is  offering 


bread  7p|U^.     That  is  similar  to  the  device  which  we 

have  just  seen  in  the  Indian  chief's  letter,  and  its  signifi- 
cance is  equally  independent  of  any  particular  language. 
If  modern  scholars  are  able  to  attach  some  phonetic 
value  to  such  a  sign,  that  is  merely  because  they  have 
learned  elsewhere  the  Egyptian  words  involved. 

Ordinarily  an  Egyptian  symbol  does  not,  as  in  this 
case,  express  a  sentence,  but  at  most  a  single  word; 
and  there  are  symbols  for  verbs  and  pronouns  as  well 
as  for  nouns.  Many  of  the  word-signs  are  pictures,  pure 
and  simple,  and  consequently  are  independent  of  speech. 
Thus  -*s>  means  "eye"  or  "oculus"  or  "Auge"  as 
much  as  it  does  Egyptian  tl:>irt."  Other  purely  pic- 
torial symbols  are  O  "sun,"  ^  "front,"  Q  "face," 
<=>  "mouth." 

The  first  essential  connection  with  spoken  language 
is  to  be  recognized  in  the  use  of  a  pictorial  word-sign  for  a 
second  word  of  similar  sound.  The  sign  C~D  is  the  ground 
plan  of  a  house  and  represents  the  idea  "house"  directly. 
It  was,  however,  closely  associated  with  the  word  prl 

1  The  Egyptian  phonetic  signs  never  indicate  the  vowels,  and  so  we 
are  almost  entirely  ignorant  as  to  the  number  and  character  of  the  vowels 
in  the  various  words  whose  consonantal  skeletons  have  been  recorded. 
One  must  supply  enough  vowels  to  make  the  words  pronounceable,  and 
it  is  customary  to  employ  the  vowel  e  for  this  purpose. 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  5 

"house,"  and  came  to  be  employed  for  the  phonetically 
similar  verb  prj  "to  go  out." 

A  further  step  is  seen  in  the  use  of  pictorial  word- 
signs  in  a  phonetic  value  to  denote  parts  of  longer 
words.  The  sign  J^1^  means  mn  "draughtboard,"  but 
it  is  regularly  used  for  the  combination  mn  in  any  word 
that  is  written  phonetically.  Similarly  Cl  denotes  the 
sound-group  pr  as  well  as  the  words  pr  "house"  and  prj 
"  to  go  out; "  i©>  denotes  the  sound-group  hr  as  well  as  the 
word  hr  "face." 

The  "alphabetic"  symbols  for  the  single  consonants 
originated  in  the  same  way.  The  sign  cnzi  means  pri- 
marily S^1  "lake,  tank,"  but  it  is  also  used  for  the  sound 
s  in  any  word.  <r>  means  r"°  "mouth"  and  also,  with 
neglect  of  the  weaker  consonant,  the  sound  r.  The 
Egyptians  had  alphabetic  symbols  for  all  their  con- 
sonants, and  it  would  have  been  easy  to  write  the  lan- 
guage with  these  alone.  The  priestly  scribes,  however, 
always  combined  the  other  methods  of  writing  with  this 
one,  chiefly,  no  doubt,  because  they  did  not  realize 
the  advantages  of  phonetic  writing,  but  partly  also 
because  the  picture  symbols  were  both  decorative  and 
mysterious. 

Whether  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphs  ever  actually 
gave  rise  to  a  real  alphabetic  system  in  the  hands  of 
Semitic  or  Cretan  borrowers  we  do  not  know.  But  it  is 
probable  that  the  Phoenician  alphabet,  whether  it  was 
borrowed  from  Egypt  or  not,  and  also  every  other 

1  The  sound  s  was  similar  to  English  sh.  By  ^  we  mean  to  indicate 
the  glottal  stop  which  is  represented  by  Hebrew  aleph  and  which  is  heard 
in  German  as  the  Initial  of  words  which  in  writing  begin  with  a  vowel. 
The  sound  is  produced  by  impounding  the  breath  behind  the  vocal 
chords  and  suddenly  releasing  it. 


6  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

system  of  phonetic  writing  has  passed  through  a  develop- 
ment similar  to  that  which  we  can  reconstruct  for  the 
Egyptian  of  more  than  six  thousand  years  ago. 

Even  if  the  Egyptians  had  thrown  away  all  of  their 
hieroglyphs  except  the  signs  for  the  consonants,  their 
system  of  writing  would  still  have  been  very  imperfect 
in  that  it  would  not  have  indicated  the  vowels.  Such 
purely  consonantal  writing  is  actually  seen  in  the 
Phoenician  and  Hebrew  alphabet;  for  the  use  of  vowel- 
points  in  writing  Hebrew  is  a  modern  refinement. 

If,  according  to  tradition,  the  Greeks  borrowed  their 
alphabet  from  the  Phoenicians,  they  made  good  the  lack 
of  vowel-signs.  And  yet  the  Greek  alphabet  was  far 
from  perfect.  In  its  earliest  stages  it  did  not  denote 
vowel  quantity  at  all,  and  even  in  its  developed  form 
a  majority  of  the  vowels  were  not  marked  as  long  or 
short.  Accent  was  not  indicated  until  Alexandrian 
times  and  then  very  imperfectly.  There  was  never 
any  attempt  to  indicate  syllable  division.  We  are 
certain  of  several  further  serious  lacks,  and,  if  our 
knowledge  of  Greek  pronunciation  were  more  extensive, 
we  could  no  doubt  detect  still  others. 

Imperfections  of  Alphabets 

That  the  English  alphabet  is  very  imperfect  everyone 
knows,  but  how  great  its  shortcomings  arc  is  not  so 
obvious.  Although  we  are  in  the  habit  of  thinking  that 
such  a  word  as  "ran"  has  only  three  sounds  correspond- 
ing to  its  three  letters,  phonographic  and  other  records 
of  speech-sounds  show,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  is  no 
division  of  a  word  into  parts  and,  in  the  second  place, 
that  the  pronunciation  constantly  changes  throughout 


7 

the  word.  No  two  vibrations  of  the  initial  r-sound  are 
precisely  alike,  although  the  r-vibrations  are  far  more 
nearly  like  one  another  than  like  the  a- vibrations. 
Between  the  two  groups  of  vibrations  there  is  an  inter- 
mediate territory  which  resembles  both  r  and  a  in  some 
degree.  We  can  convince  ourselves  of  the  truth  of  these 
observations  by  pronouncing  the  word  "ran"  very 
slowly  and  noticing  the  gradual  alteration  of  sound  from 
r  to  a.  We  cannot  fix  any  boundary  between  the  two, 
and  we  cannot  pick  out  any  moment  as  representing  a 
pure  a  unmixed  with  either  r  or  n.  In  order  to  represent 
speech  perfectly  an  alphabet  would  have  to  indicate 
several  varieties  of  r  and  of  a  and  also  the  intermediate 
stages  between  them.  It  would  have  to  contain  so 
many  symbols  that  its  use  for  practical  purposes  would 
be  very  difficult  indeed. 

No  known  alphabet  represents  speech-sounds  even 
as  accurately  as  would  be  convenient.  They  all  exhibit 
such  imperfections  as  the  representation  of  a  single 
sound  by  several  signs  (English  "zinc,"  "as"),  the 
representation  of  several  sounds  by  a  single  sign  (English 
"cart,"  "city"),  the  representation  of  a  simple  sound  by 
a  combination  of  signs  (English  th) ,  or  the  representation 
of  a  combination  of  sounds  by  a  single  sign  (English  x). 
There  are  five  chief  causes  of  the  imperfection  of 
alphabets : 

i.  As  alphabets  are  an  outgrowth  of  picture-writing 
they  are  almost  certain  to  have  in  their  earlier  stages 
several  signs  for  the  same  sound.  For  example, 
Egyptian  has  at  least  four  ways  of  representing  the 
sound-group  nw;  either  C>  or  ^ — .  has  this  value.  The 

/vww\ 

alphabetic   signs     %>    are    theoretically    possible,    but 


8  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

scarcely  occur  together  without  additional  characters. 
Either  of  the  following  combinations,  however,  may  be 

employed: 

2.  Alphabets  grow  up  at  a  time  when  there  is  no 
scientific  system  of  phonetics — no  clear  idea  of  how  many 
and  what  sounds  require  representation.     When  certain 
signs  began   to  be  used  for  vowels  in  early  Greece, 
no   account   was   taken    of   the    important    difference 
between  long   and    short   vowels.      Either   men  were 
not  fully  conscious  of  the  difference,  or  it  did  not  seem 
to   them    of    sufficient   importance    to    require    repre- 
sentation. 

3.  All  known  alphabets  have  been  borrowed  from 
some  foreign  source,  and,  since  no  two  languages  employ 
precisely  the  same  sounds,  an  alphabet  which  suits  one 
language    tolerably    well    is    inadequate    for    another. 
Sometimes  the  borrowing  people  fill  in  the  gaps  by  newly 
invented  signs.     This  seems  to  have  been  the  case  with 
Greek  </>  for  ph  (pronounced  nearly  as  in  "haphazard") 
and  with  Anglo-Saxon  f>  and  3  for  th  (pronounced  as  in 
"thin"  or  as  in  "thine").     Sometimes  a  combination  of 
several  signs  is  used  to  represent  the  peculiar  sounds  of 
the  borrowing  language.     In  the  early  Greek  inscrip- 
tions of  Thera  the  aspirate  which  was  elsewhere  and 
later  represented  by  </>  is  written  by  a  group  of  two  signs 
TTH.     Again,   the   difficulty  is  sometimes    avoided   by 
the   use  of  a  sign   in   several  values  with  or  without 
diacritical   marks   to   diflerentiate   them.     The   Oscans 
borrowed  their  alphabet  from  their  Etruscan  neighbors, 
who  had  no  vowel  o  and  consequently  no  sign  for  that 
sound.     The  Oscans  made  good  the  lack  by  employing 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  9 

the  sign  V  for  o  as  well  as  for  u;  after  a  while  the  letter 
came  to  be  written  V  in  case  it  stood  for  o. 

4.  When   a   system   of   writing   has   once   become 
familiar,  there  is  a  tendency  to  stick  to  it,  even  if  the 
pronunciation  changes.     Examples  of  this  may  be  seen 
in  almost  any  written  language.     In  Latin  the  diph- 
thong ei  became  long  i  about  150  B.C.,  but  the  spelling 
with  ei  was  in  common  use  till  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  era.     We  see  this  natural  conservatism  pushed 
to  a  ridiculous  extreme  in  the  traditional  spelling  of 
French  and  English.     In  English  we  not  only  continue 
to  write  numerous  letters  that  have  not  represented  any 
actual  sound  for  hundreds  of  years,  but  we  have  besides 
introduced  silent  letters  into  certain  words  which  never 
had  the  corresponding  sounds.     The  word  "doubt"  is  a 
French    loan-word,    and    therefore    the    most    archaic 
spelling  we  could  expect  in  English  is  that  of  the  French 
doute,  but  a  b  has  been  introduced  by  some  schoolmaster 
who  wanted  to  exhibit  his  knowledge  of  Latin  dubito. 

5.  Sometimes  foreign  words  are  retained  in  writing 
after  they  come  to  be  translated  in  speech.     We  write 
"etc."  for  et  cetera,  "e.g."  for  exempli  gratia,  "i.e."  for 
id  est,  but  we  read  "and  so  forth,"  "for  example,"  "that 
is."     In  Persia  in  the  time  of  the  Sassanians  the  written 
language  consisted  largely  of  Aramaic  words,  although 
the  spoken  language  was  Persian. 

In  consequence  of  the  first  three  factors  just  discussed 
all  known  systems  of  alphabetic  writing  have  been  more 
or  less  imperfect  at  the  outset,  and  in  consequence  of 
the  last  two  factors  (especially  the  fourth)  they  con- 
stantly tend  to  become  less  and  less  faithful  representa- 
tives of  speech.  If  there  were  no  contrary  tendency, 


io  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

alphabetic  writing  would  ultimately  become  as  arbitrary 
and  difficult  as  the  systems  out  of  which  it  developed. 
This  unfortunate  result  is  obviated  only  by  a  series  of 
more  or  less  thorough  spelling  reforms,  each  of  which  is 
succeeded  by  a  longer  or  shorter  period  during  which 
the  written  language  again  remains  nearly  stationary, 
and  the  spoken  language  continues  its  development. 
Consequently  it  is  only  the  spoken  language  that  has 
any  independent  existence,  while  nearly  all  systems  of 
writing  are  the  result  of  a  compromise  between  tradition 
and  the  phonetic  representation  of  speech.  Linguistic 
science  is  therefore  primarily  concerned  with  spoken 
language.  Written  language  is  important  for  our  pur- 
pose only  in  so  far  as  by  its  help  we  can  restore  the 
spoken  language  of  which  it  is  an  imperfect  representa- 
tion. But,  since  linguistic  science  deals  very  largely  with 
linguistic  change,  it  is  necessary  to  compare  different 
stages  in  the  development  of  the  several  languages; 
and  these  are  preserved  only  in  writing  except  for  the 
phonographic  records  that  have  been  made  since  the 
invention  of  the  phonograph  in  the  year  1877.  It  is 
therefore  an  essential  part  of  the  task  of  the  science  to 
establish  the  phonetic  value  of  the  symbols  by  which  the 
languages  of  the  past  are  recorded.  This  has  been  done 
with  considerable  accuracy  for  many  languages,  although 
in  every  case  numerous  details  are  still  undetermined. 

The  Analysis  of  Language 

If  asked  to  describe  the  structure  of  language,  many 
would  say  that  the  simplest  linguistic  unit  is  a  letter 
or  the  sound  represented  by  a  letter  and  that  one  or  more 
sounds  make  a  syllable,  one  or  more  syllables  make  a 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  u 

word,  one  or  more  words  make  a  sentence,  one  or  more 
sentences  make  a  paragraph,  etc.  This  way  of  looking 
at  the  matter  was  nearly  universal  until  a  few  decades 
ago,  but  is  really  no  more  accurate  than  to  describe  the 
structure  of  man  by  saying  that  the  simplest  human 
element  is  a  cell,  that  several  cells  make  an  organ  or 
limb,  and  that  several  organs  and  limbs  make  a  man. 
In  nature  one  finds  only  whole  men  and  can  observe  their 
various  parts  only  by  means  of  anatomy  or  by  a  sort  of 
mental  analysis.  Just  so  we  talk  only  in  sentences,  and 
the  smaller  divisions  of  language  have  no  independent 
existence. 

All  long  sentences,  however,  are  broken  by  pauses 
into  several  phrases  which  correspond  with  logical 
divisions  of  the  thought.  Of  the  linguistic  units  smaller 
than  a  phrase,  the  only  one  which  is  perceptibly  marked 
off  in  speech  is  the  syllable.  We  are  not  yet  ready  to 
define  the  syllable  or  to  discuss  the  means  by  which 
syllables  are  marked  off  from  one  another;  but  that  they 
are  marked  off  is  perfectly  obvious  to  all.  Metrical 
form  and  rhythm  in  speech  or  song  depend  upon  syllabi- 
fication; in  fact,  many  kinds  of  verse  involve  an  actual 
counting  of  syllables. 

A  word,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  marked  off  from 
the  rest  of  the  phrase.  There  is  scarcely  any  difference 
in  our  usual  pronunciation  between  the  phrases  "an 
iceman"  and  "a  nice  man,"  "I  scream"  and  "ice 
cream,"  between  the  phrase  "at  all"  and  the  first  two 
syllables  of  the  phrase  "a  tall  man"  (for  example,  "he's 
not  a  tall  man,"  "he's  not  at  all  bad").  The  word 
"apron "  is  derived  from  French naperon;  for  " a napron " 
was  misunderstood  "an  apron."  Similarly  "auger" 


12  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

comes  from  Anglo-Saxon  nafu-gar,  and  "adder"  is  the 
same  word  as  German  Natter.  By  the  reverse  process 
"an  ekename"  has  become  "a  nickname,"  and  "an 
ewt"  has  become  "a  newt."  The  phrase  "that  other" 
has  given  rise  to  the  colloquial  "the  tother."  One 
result  of  the  fact  that  words  are  not  marked  off  from 
one  another  in  pronunciation  is  that  verse  and  music 
are  ordinarily  indifferent  to  word  divisions  provided  that 
the  syllables  and  accents  are  right. 

In  one  respect,  however,  words  have  a  more  inde- 
pendent existence  than  the  parts  of  a  man  or  an  animal. 
Whereas  a  live  nose  or  finger  or  foot  can  have  no  existence 
except  as  parts  of  a  larger  whole,  it  is  quite  possible  for  a 
word  to  stand  alone,  that  is,  to  constitute  an  entire 
sentence.  Among  the  sentences  first  learned  in  child- 
hood are  such  as  these:  "mama!"  "come!"  "go!" 
"  drink ! "  "  naughty ! "  It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  when 
a  child  hears  such  sentences  as  "mama  comes,"  "mama 
goes,"  "drink  milk,"  "drink  water,"  he  soon  learns  to 
recognize  the  already  familiar  sound-complexes  in  their 
new  surroundings.  Thus,  too,  he  soon  learns  to  analyze 
new  combinations  of  old  material  for  himself;  a  little 
boy  with  no  sisters  knows  well  the  sentences  "naughty 
boy,"  "naughty  baby,"  "naughty  hand,"  and  he  will 
at  once  understand  the  sentence  "naughty  girl." 
Soon,  indeed,  he  will  make  new  combinations  of  his 
own,  such  as  "naughty  spoon,"  "naughty  milk," 
"naughty  mama."  At  a  somewhat  later  stage  of 
development  a  child  will  promptly  isolate  the  unfamiliar 
element  in  a  sentence.  He  has  heard  "see  the  dog!" 
"see  the  baby!"  "see  the  boy!"  and  when  he  hears  for 
the  first  time  "see  the  moon!"  he  follows  the  direction 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  13 

to  look  for  something  and  tries  to  find  out  the  meaning 
of  the  word  "moon." 

Why  is  it  that  words  can  be  so  readily  separated  from 
one  another  if  they  are  not  separated  in  pronunciation  ? 
One  reason  is  that  each  word,  while  keeping  its  own  form 
intact,  appears  in  constantly  varying  surroundings;  a 
word  is  capable  of  being  isolated  from  the  rest  of  the 
sentence  in  much  the  same  way  as  a  tree  or  a  rock  can 
be  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  landscape  when  the 
observer  moves.  A  second  reason  why  we  recognize 
words  as  separate  entities  is  that  the  thought  expressed 
by  the  sentence  varies  with  the  form.  The  sentences 
"mother  comes"  and  "mother  goes"  stand  in  the  same 
relation  to  each  other  as  the  corresponding  concepts; 
the  two  sentences  contain  a  common  word,  and  the  two 
concept-groups  contain  a  common  concept.  It  is  this 
fact  which  fixes  the  attention  upon  sentence  analysis 
and  leads  young  children  to  their  really  astonishing 
facility  in  so  abstruse  a  logical  process. 

The  importance  of  attention  in  the  process  of  isolating 
words  appears  from  the  fact  that  the  most  common 
words  of  all,  such  as  "is,"  "are,"  "in,"  "with,"  whose 
meaning  is  not  very  interesting  in  itself,  are  not  among 
the  first  to  be  isolated.  They  probably  stand  in  this 
respect  about  on  a  plane  with  the  commoner  prefixes  and 
suffixes.  For  these  are  isolated  in  the  same  way  as  words. 
When  a  child  has  identified  the  words  "boy"  and  "boy's," 
"girl"  and  "girl's,"  "baby"  and  "baby's,"  etc.,  he  finally 
succeeds  in  isolating  the  genitive  ending,  that  is,  he  asso- 
ciates the  final  5  directly  with  the  concept  "belongs  to." 

There  remain  those  linguistic  elements  which  the 
ordinary  observer  regards  as  the  simplest  of  all,  that  is, 


14  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

the  sounds  of  which  a  syllable  is  composed.  These 
sounds  are  not  marked  off  from  one  another  in  pronun- 
ciation, and  they  have  no  such  association  with  meaning 
as  would  lead  to  their  isolation  during  the  process  of 
learning  to  speak.  The  reason  why  those  who  know  how 
to  read  have  some  knowledge  of  speech-sounds  is  that, 
to  some  extent,  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  represent 
sounds.  But  since  the  representation  is  very  imperfect, 
most  readers  and  writers  have  but  a  vague  and  faulty 
notion  of  phonetics.  We  must  not  be  so  easily 
contented. 

Pbonetics 

Speech  is  produced  by  the  expulsion  of  the  breath 
through  the  passages  of  the  throat,  mouth,  and  nose, 
while  these  are  modified  in  various  ways.  The  modifica- 
tion begins  in  the  vocal  chords  of  the  larynx,  the  box  at 
the  top  of  the  windpipe  which  is  popularly  called  the 
"Adam's  apple."  The  vocal  chords  are  two  membranes 
attached  to  the  walls  of  the  larynx  in  such  a  way  that 
they  may  be  drawn  together  until  they  completely  stop 
the  passage  of  the  breath.  When  the  vocal  chords  are 
so  placed  as  to  leave  a  narrow  opening  between  them, 
the  breath  sets  them  in  rapid  vibration  and  produces  the 
musical  tone  which  we  call  voice.  One  may  convince 
one's  self  that  voice  really  originates  in  the  Adam's 
apple  by  placing  a  finger  at  that  point  and  producing 
the  sound  a;  a  slight  vibration  can  be  plainly  felt.  If 
the  breath  is  expelled  with  some  force  while  the  vocal 
chords  are  relatively  near  the  position  of  rest,  friction 
produces  the  noise  which  we  call  a  whisper.  When  the 
whisper  is  not  modified  by  a  narrowing  of  the  mouth 
passage,  the  result  is  aspiration,  the  sound  of  the  letter  h. 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  15 

The  voice  produced  by  the  vibration  of  the  vocal 
chords  is  an  element  of  all  vowels,  except  whispered 
vowels,  and  of  many  consonants.  The  presence  or 
absence  of  voice  is  often  the  sole  or  the  chief  distinction 
between  two  consonants;  for  example,  between  z  and  s, 
v  and  /,  b  and  p,  d  and  /.  Speech-sounds  may  all  be 
classed  either  as  voiced  or  as  voiceless. 

After  passing  the  vocal  chords,  the  breath  may  pass 
through  the  nose  or  through  the  mouth  or  through  both 
at  once.  All  sounds  produced  with  the  nasal  passage 
open  are  said  to  be  nasal.  The  nasal  vowels  of  French  and 
of  some  other  languages  are  produced  with  both  the 
passages  open.  The  nasal  consonants  are  produced  with 
the  nasal  passage  open  and  the  mouth  passage  closed; 
the  difference  between  the  consonants  depends  upon  the 
place  of  closure. 

All  other  speech-sounds  are  produced  with  the  nasal 
passage  closed  and  with  more  or  less  closure  of  the  mouth. 
Certain  sounds  are  produced  by  closing  both  passages 
completely  and  then  opening  the  mouth  with  an  explo- 
sion. To  say  p  we  first  close  the  lips  firmly  and  then 
suddenly  open  them  and  release  the  breath  which  had 
been  imprisoned  behind  them.  If  the  closure  is  made 
with  the  tongue  against  the  gum  at  the  roots  of  the 
upper  teeth,  the  sound  produced  is  t.  If  the  closure  is 
between  the  surface  of  the  tongue  and  the  roof  of  the 
mouth,  the  resulting  sound  is  k.  Such  sounds  are  called 
indifferently  explosives,  stops,  or  mutes.  Some  of 
them  are  voiceless  (p,  t,  k},  while  others  are  voiced 
(b,  d,  g). 

In  the  production  of  many  sounds  the  closure  is 
incomplete,  so  that  the  breath  is  not  entirely  stopped, 


1 6  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

but  merely  makes  a  rubbing  sound  as  it  passes  through 
the  narrowed  part  of  the  mouth  passage.  If  one  makes 
an  incomplete  closure  with  the  tongue  against  the  tip  of 
the  upper  teeth,  the  sound  produced  is  th  without  voice, 
as  in  "thin,"  or  with  voice,  as  in  "this."  Such  sounds 
are  called  spirants. 

The  closure  or  partial  closure  of  the  mouth  passage 
may  be  made  at  many  different  points,  (i)  With  the 
lips  together  we  produce  labials  (p,  b,  wh,  w).  (2)  With 
the  lower  lip  against  the  upper  teeth  we  produce  labio- 
dentals (f,  v),  (3)  Dentals  are  formed  with  the  tongue 
against  the  tips  of  the  upper  teeth  (th).  (4)  With  the 
tongue  against  the  gum  above  the  upper  teeth  alveolars 
are  produced  (/,  d).  (5)  With  the  tip  of  the  tongue 
turned  back  toward  the  hard  front  palate  we  pronounce 
cacuminals  (American  r).  (6)  Palatals  are  formed  with 
the  surface  of  the  tongue  near  or  against  the  hard  palate 
(y  in  "  yet ").  (7)  With  the  surface  of  the  tongue  against 
the  soft  palate  we  produce  velars  (k,  g).  In  addition  to 
these  positions  of  closure,  several  others  are  employed  in 
various  foreign  languages.  Thus  a  contact  farther  back 
than  the  velar  position  gives  (8)  the  uvulars  of  Arabic 
and  other  oriental  languages.  It  is  possible  to  pronounce 
many  more  than  the  English  sounds  with  the  contact- 
positions  that  are  usual  in  English.  German  has  a 
voiceless  palatal  spirant  (ch  in  ich}  and  a  voiceless  velar 
spirant  (ch  in  ach).  The  Hindoo  languages  have 
cacuminal  stops  (/,  d).  French  and  German  have  an 
alveolar  r.  In  French  and  German  t  and  d  are  dentals 
instead  of  alveolars. 

There  are  in  several  cases  different  ways  of  making  a 
partial  closure  in  about  the  same  place.  Both  5  and  / 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE 


are  alveolars;  the  difference  between  them  is  that,  while 
for  5  the  closure  is  complete  at  the  sides  of  the  mouth,  for 
/  the  closure  is  complete  in  front  and  incomplete  at  the 
sides;  /  is  therefore  called  a  lateral. 

In  our  table  of  English  consonants,  we  omit  h,  which 
involves  no  closure  of  the  mouth  passage,  and  the 
compound  sounds  ch,  as  in  "church"  (=t-}-sti)  and  j, 
as  in  "judge"  (= d-}-zti). 

TABLE  OF  ENGLISH  CONSONANTS 


Labial 

Labio- 
Dental 

Dental 

Alveolar 

Cacumi- 
nal 

Palatal 

Velar 

Nasals  

in 

n 

n  in 

tip 

Stops: 
Voiceless  .... 

p 

t 

"pinion" 

k 

Voiced  

b 

d 

a 

Spirants: 
Voiceless  .... 

wh 

/ 

ih 

s,  sh,  I 

r 

y 

Voiced  

w 

D 

th 

z,  zh,  I 

f 

V 

While  some  consonants  are  spoken  with  and  others 
without  voice,  all  English  vowels  are  normally  voiced. 
Another  striking  difference  between  the  two  classes  of 
sounds  is  that  the  vowels  are  spoken  with  the  mouth 
passage  wider  open  than  it  ever  is  in  producing  conso- 
nants. 

In  this  respect,  however,  there  is  much  difference 
between  the  vowels  themselves,  and  they  are  therefore 
arranged  according  to  their  degree  of  openness.  The 
closest  vowels  are  u,  which  is  but  slightly  more  open  than 
w,  and  i,  which  is  barely  distinguished  from  y.  The 
most  open  sound  of  all  is  that  of  a  in  "father."  The 
other  vowels  hold  intermediate  positions. 


1 8  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

The  difference  between  i  and  u  is  in  the  place  of 
closure.  The  former  is  produced  by  bringing  the  surface 
of  the  tongue  almost  as  near  to  the  hard  palate  as  in 
pronouncing  v,  and  u  is  formed  with  the  lips  almost  as 
near  together  as  in  w.  We  do  not,  however,  call  u  a 
labial  vowel;  in  the  production  of  both  w  and  u  there  is 
an  approximation  of  the  back  of  the  tongue  to  the  soft 
palate,  and  in  the  case  of  the  vowel  this  narrowing  of  the 
vocal  passage  is  more  important  than  the  other  (it  is 
possible  to  pronounce  a  recognizable  u  with  the  lips 
wide  apart) .  On  account  of  this  latter  closure  u  is  called 
a  back  vowel,  while  i  is  a  front  vowel.  All  other  vowels 
stand  between  the  two  extremes. 

On  the  basis  of  these  two  criteria  we  may  arrange 
most  of  the  English  vowels  as  follows: 

Front  Back 

Close  (machine)  i  u  (rule) 

(pin)  i  u  (fall) 

(pay)  ay  ow  (throw) 

(men)  e  o  (obey) 

(cot)  a  aw  (law) 

Open                                  (ask)  a  a(father) 

Two  of  the  foregoing  sounds  are  really  diphthongs, 
although  most  speakers  of  English  are  unaware  of  that 
fact.  If  the  reader  will  pronounce  long  0  slowly  while 
looking  into  a  mirror  or  while  touching  his  lips  with  his 
linger,  he  will  find  that  his  lips  gradually  approach  each 
other  until  they  are  in  the  position  for  pronouncing  w. 
The  conventional  spelling  of  "throw"  is  therefore 
phonetically  correct,  while  that  of  "old"  is  misleading. 
Similarly  we  have  a  diphthong  in  "pay,"  in  spite  of  our 
usual  preference  for  the  spelling  seen  in  "page."  It  is 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  19 

necessary  to  include  these  diphthongs  in  our  table,  since 
English  does  not  possess  the  simple  sounds  of  German 
and  French  long  o  and  long  e.  The  vowel  of  "law,"  on 
the  other  hand,  is  not  a  diphthong,  but  is  written  with 
two  characters  in  our  table  merely  for  clearness.  We 
have  not  included  those  diphthongs  whose  prior  elements 
appear  also  by  themselves,  ai  (in  "right"),  awi  (in 
"oil"),  au  (in  "cow").1 

The  foregoing  classification  is  based  solely  upon  the 
position  of  the  organs  in  producing  the  several  sounds. 
It  is  also  possible  to  classify  the  vowels  according  to  their 
acoustic  properties.  The  timbre  or  characteristic  qual- 
ity of  the  several  vowels  is  independent  of  the  musical 
tone  produced  by  the  vocal  chords,  and  it  depends 
chiefly  upon  two  groups  of  factors.  Each  vowel  gets 
secondary  tone  or  overtone  from  the  resonance  chamber 
of  the  mouth,  and  this  overtone  is  constant  for  a  given 
vowel  in  the  pronunciation  of  a  given  speaker,  and  the 
intervals  between  the  overtones  of  the  several  vowels  are 
the  same  for  all  speakers  of  a  given  dialect.  It  is  easy 
to  observe  the  overtones  of  the  vowels  if  one  whispers 
them,  since  then  there  is  no  musical  tone  coming  from 
the  vocal  chords.  If,  now,  one  whispers  the  vowels  in 
our  table,  one  after  another,  beginning  at  the  left,  it  will 
be  observed  that  their  pitch  constantly  falls. 

With  the  overtones  of  the  vowels  are  combined 
certain  other  noises,  which  we  need  not  now  consider. 

It  is  possible  to  produce  vowels  with  the  mouth  in 
other  positions  than  those  we  have  been  considering. 
For  example,  a  vowel  may  be  a  close  vowel  but  formed 

1  The  final  elements  in  these  diphthongs  are  really  more  open  than 
ordinary  i  and  M;  they  might  equally  well  be  written  e  and  o. 


20  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

midway  between  front  and  back;  in  fact,  there  may  be 
a  whole  series  of  sounds  between  i  and  u,  between  the 
initial  sounds  of  the  diphthongs  ay  and  ow,  and  between 
e  ("men")  and  o  ("obey").  Such  vowels  are  German  «, 
French  u  (between  i  and  w)  and  German  0,  French  eu 
(between  0  and  e).  They  are  called  abnormal  vowels. 
The  vowel  of  English  "club"  and  "summer"  is  an  ab- 
normal vowel  not  very  different  from  the  a  of  "father," 
but  closer. 

The  familiar  classification  of  vowels  as  long  or  short 
is  quite  distinct  from  the  matters  which  we  have  been 
discussing.  A  long  vowel  is  simply  one  which  is  held 
for  a  relatively  long  time.  There  may  therefore  be  an 
indefinite  number  of  degrees  of  length.  The  traditional 
division  of  vowels  into  two  quantitative  classes  prob- 
ably never  fitted  any  language;  that  it  did  not  fit  Latin 
and  Greek  is  shown  by  the  numerous  forms  of  verse 
which  permit  spondees  (— )  in  the  same  line  with 
iambs  («-)  or  trochees  (— ).  In  English  we  may  observe 
three  degrees  of  quantity  in  "not,"  "naught,"  and 
"gnawed." 

A  difference  in  quantity  appears,  not  only  in  vowels, 
but  also  in  all  consonants  except  the  stops.  Long 
consonants  are  not  common  in  English,  except  in  com- 
pounds such  as  "illegal,"  "unknown,"  "unnatural," 
and  in  such  phrases  as  "some  more,"  "our  rights." 
The  common  description  of  such  sounds  as  double 
consonants  has  some  justification  in  the  fact  that  the 
syllable  division  falls  within  them  and  makes  them 
appear  to  be  divided  into  two  parts. 

Some  scholars  speak  also  of  long  stops,  but  here  the 
splitting  of  the  sound  into  two  parts  is  so  striking  that 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  21 

the  common  name  of  double  sounds  is  better.  A  stop 
is  produced  by  two  acts:  the  closing  of  the  mouth 
passage  and  the  sudden  opening  of  it.  Neither  of  these 
acts  can  be  prolonged;  but,  when  the  stop  is  doubled, 
there  is  a  slight  pause  between  the  closure  and  the 
opening  during  which  no  sound  is  produced.  Double 
stops  occur  in  English  under  the  same  circumstances  as 
long  consonants,  for  example,  "rat-trap,"  "a  good 
deed." 

The  various  speech-sounds  differ  from  one  another 
in  sonorousness,  that  is,  in  the  amount  of  sound.  It  is 
easier  to  hear  the  vowels  than  the  consonants,  and 
consequently  children  who  are  just  learning  to  speak 
pronounce  their  vowels  better  than  their  consonants. 
For  the  same  reason  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  for  a 
public  speaker  to  pronounce  his  vowels  distinctly;  he 
can  make  his  hearers  understand  them  under  circum- 
stances which  make  the  hearing  of  some  consonants 
impossible,  and  the  hearers  will  then  be  able  to  supply 
such  of  the  consonants  as  they  have  not  been  able  to 
hear.  The  voiced  consonants  are  more  easily  heard 
than  the  unvoiced,  the  open  vowels  than  the  close. 
The  least  sonorous  sound  is  h.  These  variations  are 
to  be  observed  in  case  the  energy  of  pronunciation 
remains  constant. 

But  it  is  possible,  of  course,  to  speak  a  given  sound 
so  that  it  will  be  heard  more  easily  or  less  so,  by  simply 
increasing  or  diminishing  the  force  of  the  breath,  that  is, 
the  stress  of  pronunciation.  The  resultant  of  these  two 
factors  is  the  intensity  of  speech.  During  a  sentence 
the  intensity  constantly  varies  in  a  series  of  waves  of 
uneven  height.  These  waves  are  the  syllables.  In 


22  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

other  words,  the  syllable  divisions  are  points  of  less 
intensity  than  the  neighboring  sounds.  If  the  syllable 
division  falls  within  a  long  consonant  ("illegal,"  "unnat- 
ural"), that  is  due  solely  to  a  lessening  of  stress.  In 
most  cases,  however,  there  is  a  decrease  of  sonorousness 
at  the  syllable  division.  Note  the  difference  between 
"un-til,"  "ant-hill,"  and  "in-stil."  If  a  consonant  of 
greater  sonorousness  stands  between  two  consonants  of 
less  sonorousness,  the  group  constitutes  a  syllable,  as  in 
"likened,"  in  which  the  second  syllable  contains  no  vowel. 
A  consonant  is  the  most  sonorous  sound  also  in  the 
second  syllable  of  "letter,"  "little,"  "heaven,"  and  many 
other  words. 

The  last-mentioned  word,  however,  may  be  pro- 
nounced as  one  syllable  by  reducing  the  stress  of  n  until 
its  intensity  falls  below  that  of  v.  It  is  more  difficult  to 
reduce  "letter"  to  one  syllable,  because  of  the  greater 
difference  in  sonorousness  between  t  and  r,  and  such  a 
pronunciation  is  never  heard  in  English. 

While  each  syllable  wave  involves  an  increase  of 
intensity,  the  maximum  of  intensity,  that  is,  the  height 
of  the  wave,  varies  from  syllable  to  syllable.  Here,  as 
elsewhere,  intensity  depends  partly  upon  sonorousness 
and  partly  upon  stress.  A  familiar  term  for  stress  as  it 
applies  to  syllables  is  accent. 

The  latter  word  was  originally  used  of  a  very  different 
modification  of  syllables;  for  Latin  acccnliis  is  derived 
from  cano  "sing,"  and  was  used  to  translate  Greek 
Trpoaubia  "pitch."  The  word  is  still  used  in  this  sense, 
especially  in  the  phrase,  pitch  accent.  An  increase 
in  stress  is  usually  accompanied  by  a  rise  in  pitch, 
and  in  some  languages,  as  Latin,  the  two  variations 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  23 

axe  so  nearly  equal  in  importance  that  they  may  be 
treated  together  under  the  term  accent.  In  other 
languages,  as  in  English,  the  rise  in  pitch  is  slight,  and 
the  increase  in  stress  is  relatively  strong.  In  still  other 
languages  the  variation  in  pitch  is  great,  and  the  varia- 
tion in  stress  is  so  slight  as  to  have  no  importance.  This 
was  the  case  with  ancient  Greek. 

The  foregoing  remarks,  however,  apply  merely  to 
syllabic  accent.  Even  languages  like  English,  which 
have  scarcely  any  pitch  accent,  nevertheless  make 
extensive  use  of  variation  in  pitch  for  modifying  the 
meaning  of  sentences  and  phrases,  as  in  the  "rising 
inflection"  of  certain  kinds  of  questions. 

Relation  between  Form  and  Meaning 

One  of  the  first  linguistic  problems  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  thinkers  of  ancient  Greece  was  this: 
Do  the  meanings  of  words  belong  to  them  inherently  and 
naturally,  or  have  men  merely  agreed  to  attach  certain 
meanings  to  certain  words  ?  The  question  is  discussed 
in  Plato's  Cratylus,  but  the  controversy  began  before  his 
time.  It  is  not  strange  that  men  should  have  seen 
something  inevitable  in  the  meanings  of  words;  for  no 
man  can  change  them.  We  may  call  a  man  a  horse 
and  a  horse  a  man;  but  both  we  and  all  who  hear  us 
will  be  quite  conscious  that  we  are  speaking  incorrectly. 
Even  if  a  community  should  pass  a  law  that  the  word 
"horse"  should  hereafter  mean  "man,"  the  law  would 
be  almost  as  absurd  and  quite  as  ineffectual  as  the  bill 
once  introduced  in  a  certain  legislature  that  the  area 
of  a  circle  should  equal  the  square  of  one-fourth  of  its 
circumference. 


24  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Nevertheless  it  is  perfectly  certain  that  the  meaning 
of  words  is  not  ordained  by  nature.  To  say  nothing  of 
homonyms,  such  as  English  "mine"  and  "sun"  ("son"), 
or  of  the  difference  in  meaning  between  Latin  tu  and 
English  "two"  and  between  Latin  laus  and  English 
"  louse, "  it  cannot  be  true  that  a  single  object  is  naturally 
and  inevitably  named  "sun"  in  English,  sol  in  Latin, 
Sonne  in  German,  soleil  in  French,  etc.  Somehow  or 
other  the  meaning  of  each  word  is  a  matter  of  convention. 

In  some  cases  this  is  obvious  enough.  There  is 
general  agreement  among  scientists  that  the  discoverer 
of  a  new  species  or  a  new  element  has  the  right  to  name 
it.  In  other  matters  different  scholars  are  likely  to 
invent  rival  terms  for  the  same  idea.  In  grammar  there 
has  gradually  grown  up  a  perfect  forest  of  technical  terms, 
so  that,  in  the  hope  of  making  it  once  more  possible  to 
see  through  the  undergrowth,  a  committee  of  gram- 
marians has  recently  devised  a  uniform  system  of  termi- 
nology. In  some  of  the  South  Sea  Islands  it  is  forbidden 
to  speak  the  name  of  the  reigning  monarch  or  any  word 
that  resembles  his  name.  If  then  a  new  king's  name  re- 
sembles the  word  for  "house"  or  "bread"  or  "father," 
a  new  word  has  to  be  agreed  upon. 

The  reason  why  we  do  not  more  often  witness 
these  linguistic  agreements  is  simply  that  most  of 
them  were  made  before  we  were  born.  Each  generation 
adopts  a  few  of  its  own,  but  in  general  it  merely  accepts 
the  conventions  of  an  earlier  day. 

Imitation 

For  the  most  part,  then,  each  generation  gets  its 
language  from  the  preceding  generation  by  imitation, 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  25 

just  as  it  learns  all  the  other  activities  of  life.  For 
speech  is  from  the  start  quite  on  a  par  with  the  rest  of 
our  customs;  all  are  learned  in  the  same  way.  At  first 
a  child's  movements  have  little  resemblance  to  those  of 
his  elders,  and  the  sounds  of  his  first  meaningless  prattle 
are  very  much  more  numerous  and  diverse  than  the 
sounds  of  any  language.  Little  by  little  he  acquires 
the  bodily  motions  which  he  sees  in  others,  and  his 
sounds  come  more  and  more  to  resemble  the  speech- 
sounds  which  he  hears.  As  he  grows  older,  he  imitates 
more  closely  the  particular  ways  of  eating,  walking,  and 
sitting  that  are  employed  by  his  elders;  for  example,  it 
is  as  easy  for  a  child  to  sit  on  the  floor  as  in  a  chair,  but, 
since  grown  people  sit  in  chairs,  he  too  wants  a  chair. 
At  the  same  time  the  child  learns  to  speak  more  and  more 
precisely  in  the  manner  of  the  community. 

Throughout  life  we  are  governed  in  all  our  actions 
by  the  customs  of  our  associates.  The  influence  of 
imitation  in  matters  of  dress  has  often  been  discussed, 
but  few  realize  how  far-reaching  it  is.  Men  sometimes 
blame  women  for  following  the  rapidly  shifting  fashions 
of  women's  dress,  and  women  sometimes  ridicule  men 
for  adhering  to  the  stupidly  rigid  custom  of  wearing 
coats  in  summer.  The  women  usually  retort  that  they 
like  a  little  change  and  that  there  is  really  something  to 
be  said  for  the  latest  type  of  skirt  or  hat.  Men  say  that 
they  really  do  not  mind  a  coat,  even  in  hot  weather. 
Both  imply  that  they  could  defy  the  fashions  if  they 
chose;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  cannot  without  great 
discomfort  dress  in  any  but  the  usual  way.  I  once 
found  it  convenient  to  wear  an  academic  cap  for  a  trip 
of  two  miles  along  the  streets  and  in  public  vehicles,  but 


26  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

the  experience  was  so  uncomfortable  that  I  borrowed  a 
hat  for  my  return  trip. 

Just  as  fashions  in  dress  are  binding  upon  all  members 
of  a  given  class  and  are  imitated  by  all  who  look  up  to 
that  class,  so  fashions  in  language  are  binding  upon  all 
people  of  culture  and  are  followed  by  other  members  of 
the  community  to  the  best  of  their  ability.  This  is 
irksome  for  those  who  rise  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  class 
in  the  community,  or  who  go  from  a  provincial  neighbor- 
hood to  a  college  or  university.  It  is  not  easy,  and  it 
often  seems  quite  useless  or  even  disloyal  to  one's  origin, 
to  alter  one's  speech  at  the  behest  of  fashion;  but  in 
many  cases  the  thing  must  be  done.  Actors  with  an 
American  accent  cannot  easily  secure  an  engagement 
in  England.  A  strong  western  r  is  a  distinct  hindrance 
to  a  man  who  is  trying  to  make  his  way  in  the  East  or 
the  South  of  the  United  States,  while  a  Bostonian 
pronunciation  is  not  tolerated  in  some  circles  in  Chicago. 

It  is  sometimes  supposed  that  the  tyranny  of  fashion 
is  of  recent  growth,  or  at  least  that  it  is  confined  to 
civilized  society.  Many  have  sighed  for  the  freedom  in 
matters  of  dress  that  is  supposed  to  belong  to  savage 
life.  It  is  true  that  sudden  and  violent  changes  of 
fashion  are  of  recent  date,  but  the  decrees  of  fashion  were 
formerly  even  more  peremptory  than  they  are  today. 
It  would,  in  fact,  be  difficult  to  find  a  period  when  there 
has  been  greater  variety  of  dress  among  people  of  a  given 
class  than  there  is  now,  or  when  departures  from  the 
mode  have  been  more  leniently  treated.  Among 
savages  a  variation  from  the  usual  form  of  loin  cloth  or 
nose  ring  is  almost  unthinkable;  for  among  them  the 
individual  is  nothing,  the  tribe  everything. 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  27 

Fashion  in  speech  follows  similar  laws.  In  a  group  of 
savages  there  is  scarcely  any  individual  variation, 
although  there  may  be  differences  between  the  speech  of 
men  and  of  women,  between  that  of  the  old  and  of  the 
young.  With  us  individual  variations  are  rather  the 
rule  than  the  exception;  almost  any  chance  gathering 
of  educated  people  includes  persons  of  different  linguistic 
training  and  habits.  Many  a  variation  from  the  norm, 
however,  is  felt  to  be  almost  serious  enough  to  exclude 
a  man  from  polite  society;  such,  for  example,  are 
"ain't,"  "them  people,"  "me  and  him  was  there." 
Many  other  variations  are  disapproved  but  tolerated, 
for  example,  the  New  Englander's  "lawr"  and  "idear," 
the  Westerner's  "carrt,"  the  Kentucky  "kyaht,"  the 
Alabama  "cawt."  In  many  other  cases  we  hear  a 
pronunciation  different  from  our  own  and  can  scarcely 
tell  which  of  the  two  we  prefer;  is  " int'resting "  prefer- 
able to  "interesting?" 

If  the  tyranny  of  fashion  has  relaxed  its  rigor,  it  has 
enormously  extended  the  territory  over  which  its 
decrees  are  binding.  The  modistes  of  Paris  are  supreme 
in  Berlin,  San  Francisco,  and  Buenos  Aires,  and  a 
linguistic  fashion  that  is  set  in  London  is  followed  in 
New  York  and  Cape  Town.  The  civilized  world  of 
today  is  divided  into  relatively  few  communities,  some 
of  which  are  larger  than  any  that  have  previously 
existed. 

This  development  has  been  made  possible  by  the 
increased  intercourse  between  different  parts  of  the 
world;  there  has  been  an  enormous  growth  of  commerce 
and  travel,  which  has  brought  into  intimate  personal 
relationship  great  numbers  of  men  who  dwell  far  apart. 


28  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Even  those  who  live  all  their  lives  in  one  locality  come 
to  know  many  persons  from  a  distance  and  are  thus 
subjected  to  the  influence  of  the  fashions  of  places  which 
they  have  never  seen.  Furthermore,  those  members  of 
the  community  who  travel  most  are  in  general  the  very 
ones  who  are  most  respected  and  imitated.  Conse- 
quently it  is  the  most  influential  part  of  society  which 
exerts  its  influence  for  uniformity. 

Intercourse  by  the  written  word  is  also  increasing 
with  unexampled  rapidity;  all  educated  persons  come 
almost  daily  into  contact  with  language  from  distant 
regions,  either  in  letters,  newspapers,  and  magazines, 
or  in  pamphlets  and  books.  This  sort  of  intercourse, 
however,  does  not  affect  all  linguistic  phenomena,  but 
only  those  which  are  reflected  in  writing,  that  is,  word- 
meaning,  vocabulary,  and  syntax.  Pronunciation  re- 
mains unaffected  because  it  is  not  indicated;  the  native 
of  New  Orleans  reads  aloud  a  letter  from  Boston 
precisely  as  he  would  a  letter  from  Baton  Rouge.  Cor- 
respondence and  literature  cannot  make  for  uniformity 
of  pronunciation  until  our  orthography  is  phonetic  and 
each  writer  conscientiously  indicates  his  own  pronun- 
ciation. 

The  influence  of  literature  is  re-enforced  by  the 
schools;  for  in  general  the  teachers  inculcate  the  usage  of 
the  best  writers.  Effective  pedagogy,  however,  calls 
for  a  certain  amount  of  dogmatism,  and  so  the  teachers 
often  erect  a  literary  tendency  into  a  rule  that  must  have 
no  exceptions;  hence  such  classroom  bogeys  as  "it's 
me"  or  the  "split  infinitive." 

Imitation  is  in  general  a  conservative  factor.  It 
does,  to  be  sure,  frequently  spread  an  innovation — a 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  29 

bronze  shoe  polish,  a  mincing  gait,  a  morsel  of  slang,  or  a 
habit  of  making  statements  with  a  rising  inflection. 
But  as  long  as  all  members  of  the  community  confine 
themselves  to  imitating  the  fashions  already  set,  no 
change  can  arise.  Furthermore  the  conservative  force 
of  imitation  varies  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the 
community;  for  each  innovation  is  opposed  by  the 
influence  of  that  part  of  the  community  which  is  as  yet 
unaffected  by  it,  and  the  larger  the  community  the 
larger  the  majority  against  each  incipient  change. 

Change  in  Language 

We  might  suppose,  then,  that  language  would 
remain  forever  stationary.  But  everyone  knows  that 
languages  change;  the  English  of  Shakespeare  and  of 
the  King  James  version  of  the  Bible  is  strikingly  unlike 
the  English  of  the  present  day,  while  Chaucer  is  scarcely 
intelligible  without  a  glossary.  It  is  our  purpose  to 
consider  the  causes  and  modes  of  linguistic  change. 

Since  language  is  a  purely  conventional  affair, 
maintained  and  handed  down  by  imitation,  changes  in 
language  must  come  from  one  of  two  sources.  There 
may  be  a  change  in  the  model,  that  is,  in  the  speech  of 
the  person  or  persons  who  at  the  moment  set  the  lin- 
guistic fashion.  Such  innovations  are  constantly  arising 
in  the  speech  of  each  one  of  us.  We  call  some  of  them 
mistakes;  others,  which  are  more  intentional,  we  call 
forced  uses  of  words  or  awkward  sentences;  still  others, 
which  are  fully  intentional,  we  call  figures  of  speech  or 
coined  words  or  new  phrases.  Most  of  such  innovations 
are  purely  momentary  and  have  no  influence  upon  the 
language,  but  every  now  and  then  one  of  them  finds 


30  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

imitators.  After  a  strenuous  day  of  speechmaking  in 
New  Jersey,  Mr.  Roosevelt  emphatically  denied  the 
suggestion  that  he  was  tired:  "Why!  I  feel  like  a 
bull  moose,"  he  exclaimed.  At  the  moment  the  phrase 
was  effective,  just  because  it  was  personal  and  original; 
there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  it  would  gain  more 
currency  than  any  of  the  other  similes  for  a  tireless  man. 
But  the  reporters  adopted  the  phrase  and  turned  it  into 
a  metaphor;  they  made  Mr.  Roosevelt  himself  a  bull 
moose,  and  presently  his  followers  were  called  by  the 
same  name.  In  all  such  cases  there  are  two  processes 
to  be  distinguished:  the  origin  of  the  innovation  in  an 
individual  speaker  may  be  called  a  primary  change ;  the 
spread  of  the  innovation  to  other  speakers  may  be  called 
a  secondary  change. 

The  other  possible  source  of  linguistic  change  is  a 
change  of  models;  a  new  king  may  ascend  the  throne  and 
his  subjects  begin  to  follow  his  speech  rather  than  that  of 
his  predecessor;  or  a  neighboring  community  may  make 
such  advances  in  power  or  in  culture  that  people  imitate 
its  speech.  A  few  generations  ago  the  common  model 
for  American  English  was  the  pulpit,  although  the  really 
great  writers  had  better  models  and  thus  escaped  the 
pomposity  of  their  contemporaries.  Nowadays  we 
scarcely  have  a  common  model  in  America:  some  of  us 
try  to  follow  the  usage  of  the  great  writers,  others  the 
usage  of  the  English  aristocracy,  still  others  take  Broad- 
way or  the  sporting  page  of  the  newspapers  for  their 
model;  but  we  are  all  agreed  in  avoiding  the  solemn 
ityle  of  our  ancestors.  Such  a  change  as  this  has  some- 
thing foreign  about  it;  an  uninterrupted  development  of 
.he  pulpit  style  could  scarcely  have  yielded  present-day 


THE  NATURE  OF  LANGUAGE  31 

American  English  in  so  short  a  time.  Whether  we  be 
Anglo-maniacs  or  baseball  fans,  we  have  adopted  an 
idiom  that  is  in  large  part  foreign  to  the  speech  of  our 
ancestors.  A  change  of  models,  then,  involves  a 
mixture  of  dialects,  even  if  the  new  model  is  only  slightly 
different  from  the  old. 

There  is  no  question  here  of  the  origination  of  a 
change ;  the  new  model  is  in  existence  before  it  is  chosen. 
The  choice  of  the  model  is  an  important  phenomenon 
which  will  claim  our  attention  later  on  (pages  151  f.) ; 
but,  as  far  as  specific  linguistic  changes  are  concerned, 
dialect  mixture  involves  only  the  spread  by  imitation 
which  we  have  called  secondary  change. 

Another  division  of  the  subject  of  linguistic  change 
is  based  upon  the  speech-material  affected.  We  have 
change  in  the  form  of  words,  change  in  the  meaning  of 
words,  change  in  vocabulary,  and  change  in  syntax. 
Primary  change  and  secondary  change  require  separate 
treatment  only  as  far  as  they  apply  to  change  in  form. 
In  all  other  cases  secondary  change  is  so  simple  that 
there  is  little  to  be  said  about  it  beyond  what  has  already 
been  said  in  the  section  on  imitation  (pages  24  ff.). 


CHAPTER  H 
PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM 

Under  this  head  we  should  treat  only  the  momentary 
changes  of  form,  most  of  which  are  unintentional  and 
without  permanent  effect  upon  language.  But  we  are 
confronted  by  a  serious  difficulty:  there  are  no  extensive 
collections  of  lapses  available  for  any  language  except 
German.  In  1895  Meringer  and  Mayer  published  under 
the  title  Versprechen  und  Verlesen  lists  of  mistakes  which 
they  had  observed,  and  in  1908  Meringer  published 
supplementary  lists  under  the  title  Aus  dem  Leben 
der  Sprache.  The  data  presented  in  these  two  books  are 
of  the  utmost  value,  and  those  in  the  earlier  one  have 
been  used  by  almost  every  writer  on  linguistic  science 
in  the  last  twenty  years.  No  one,  however,  has  hitherto 
published  similar  observations  upon  other  languages, 
and  Meringer  himself  notes  that  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  other  languages  follow  different  tendencies 
to  some  extent.  Even  for  the  German  itself  we  may 
suspect  that  some  curious  gaps  in  Meringer's  material 
are  due  in  part  to  the  personal  equation.  Some  English 
examples  have  been  collected  by  Bawden,  "A  Study  of 
Lapses"  in  the  Psychological  Review,  Supplement  III, 
No.  4  (1900),  but  the  rather  scanty  material  is  not  pre- 
sented in  enough  detail,  and  the  classification  is  not 
satisfactory  for  linguistic  purposes. 

Fortunately  the  more  permanent  changes  of  linguistic 
form  furnish  an  indirect  record  of  many  other  mistakes 
in  pronunciation;  for  we  have  seen  that  all  of  the 

32 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  33 

former  which  are  not  due  to  dialect  mixture  originated  in 
a  momentary  variation  in  the  speech  of  an  individual. 
We  may  therefore  use  as  illustrations  mistakes  inferred 
from  secondary  linguistic  change. 

Mistakes  during  the  Learning  of  a  Language 

Human  hearing  is  barely  adequate  to  the  demands 
which  language  makes  upon  it.  Although  our  public 
halls  are  built  according  to  certain  acoustic  principles, 
many  speakers  have  difficulty  in  making  themselves 
heard  by  a  large  audience.  Even  if  a  speaker  is  fully 
understood,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  audience  hears 
all  his  speech-sounds;  for  we  readily  supply  a  great 
deal  from  our  knowledge  of  the  situation  and  of  what 
the  speaker  is  likely  to  say.  It  is  for  this  reason  that 
sometimes,  when  we  seem  to  hear  only  fragments  of 
a  sentence  and  at  first  make  so  little  out  of  it  that  we 
ask  to  have  it  repeated,  the  meaning  nevertheless  flashes 
upon  us  before  the  repetition  comes.  When  we  try  to 
understand  a  list  of  unconnected  words  or  an  unfamiliar 
name,  the  difficulty  of  understanding  is  much  increased; 
for  in  such  cases  we  are  dependent  upon  the  sense  of 
hearing  alone :  the  mind  can  supply  nothing. 

A  child  is  able  to  supply  far  less  than  an  adult; 
at  first  he  can  add  nothing  at  all  to  what  his  ears  bring 
him,  and  it  is  only  by  degrees  that  he  acquires  familiarity 
with  one  sentence  or  phrase  after  another.  In  the 
meantime  he  is  certain  to  misinterpret  many  of  the 
sounds  which  come  to  his  ears — to  "hear"  incorrectly. 
A  certain  child  habitually  said  "I'n"  for  "I'm"  until  his 
seventh  year.  The  pronunciation  was  not  to  be  heard 
in  his  environment,  and  he  showed  no  tendency  to 


34  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

substitute  n  for  m  in  other  words;  he  must  have  under- 
stood "I'n"  when  those  about  him  said  "I'm."  Anothe1 
child  of  seven  or  eight  who  said  " perpelicular "  for 
"perpendicular"  apparently  reproduced  what  she- 
thought  she  heard.  Until  my  thirtieth  year  I  pro- 
nounced "trough"  as  "trouth."1  Until  that  time  I 
had  never  realized  that  others  said  "trouf";  and  even 
then  I  became  aware  of  my  mistake  only  by  seeing  a 
printed  list  of  words  with  gh  for  the  sound  /.  Such 
cases  are  probably  rare  among  literate  persons;  I  could 
not  long  have  retained  my  illusion  if  it  had  not  been  for 
the  curiously  perverse  spelling  of  the  word  "trough." 
With  young  children,  however,  such  mistakes  as  "brof " 
for  "broth"  are  very  common,  and  many  of  them 
must  last  throughout  life  in  the  speech  of  illiterate 
persons. 

When  a  child  first  undertakes  to  imitate  speech- 
sounds,  he  doesn't  know  what  muscles  to  use  to  secure 
the  desired  effect.  He  sees  some  few  motions  of  the 
lips  and  the  lower  jaw,  and  that  fact  undoubtedly  helps; 
for  blind  children  are  said  to  be  slower  than  others  in 
learning  to  talk.  Still  in  the  main  a  child  can  repro- 
duce the  sound  he  hears  only  by  a  process  of  trial  and 
test.  Small  wonder  that  his  first  attempts  are  far  from 
successful.  If  the  child  hears  correctly  the  sound  to  be 
imitated  he  will  not  be  permanently  satisfied  until  he 
has  himself  produced  what  he  conceives  to  be  the  same 
sound;  but  he  may  be  content  with  an  apparently  or 
approximately  identical  sound  produced  by  a  faulty 
articulation.  My  daughter  pronounced  th  with  the 

1  Since  writing  this  I  have  learned  of  another  case  of  this  mis- 
pronunciation. 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  35 

tip  of  the  tongue  thrust  forward  between  the  teeth,  and 
neither  she  nor  any  of  the  household  became  aware  of  the 
peculiarity  until  her  twelfth  year.  Meringer  reports 
several  cases  of  children  who  pronounced  5  with  the 
lips  closed  except  for  an  opening  at  the  right  corner  of 
the  mouth.  This  articulation  seems  in  the  cases 
reported  to  have  been  acquired  by  imitation;  but  it 
probably  started  with  some  child's  experiments  in 
reproducing  the  sound. 

The  suffix  seen  in  Latin  vehiclum  (the  early  form  of 
vehiculum)  was  originally  -tlom.  Perhaps  the  change 
from  -tlom  to  -clom  was  in  the  first  place  due  to  a  defect 
of  hearing.  Possibly  a  child  heard  -tlom  correctly  and 
was  satisfied  with  the  approximation  -clom,  although  we 
should  not  expect  such  satisfaction  to  be  permanent. 
There  is  also  a  third  possibility,  which  will  serve  to 
illustrate  the  complicated  nature  of  many  apparently 
simple  linguistic  phenomena.  Perhaps  the  first  at- 
tempt to  reproduce  the  sound  -tlom  led  to  -clom,  and 
then  a  correction  was  made  by  keeping  the  surface  of 
the  tongue  in  the  c-position  and  at  the  same  time  putting 
the  tip  of  the  tongue  in  the  /-position.  The  resulting 
sound  would  be  much  nearer  the  desired  -tlom  than  the 
first  attempt  was,  but  the  complicated  articulation  would 
be  more  liable  to  alteration  than  an  ordinary  t.  A 
speaker  who  intended  the  combined  articulation  would 
frequently  say  -clom  by  mistake.  Thus  a  faulty  articu- 
lation of  a  nearly  correct  sound  would  form  an  inter- 
mediate step  in  the  change.  A  similar  case  is  dialectic 
German  dlauben  for  glauben;  it  may  have  started  with  a 
child's  defective  hearing,  possibly  with  a  careless  approxi- 
mation to  a  sound  correctly  heard,  or,  more  probably, 


36  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

with  a  defective  articulation  of  a  sound  which  was 
virtually  the  same  as  gl.  Many  cases  of  lisping  prob- 
ably began  as  a  result  of  defective  hearing,  but  in  the 
later  stages  the  lispers  are  likely  to  be  conscious  of  their 
mistake,  while  not  knowing  how  to  correct  it.  Very 
few  cases  are  due  to  physical  defects. 

The  mispronunciations  of  an  adult  who  learns  a 
foreign  language  are  similar  in  origin  to  the  mistakes  of 
children  in  learning  their  mother-tongue.  It  is  said 
that  in  the  minutes  of  several  French  societies  the  name 
of  the  poet  Schiller  occurs  with  an  initial  G,  as  if  it  began 
with  a  voiced  sound  (the  zh  of  "azure")-  Since  French 
has  a  voiceless  sh,  one  must  assume  that  the  secretaries 
of  the  several  societies  heard  incorrectly. 

No  two  languages  employ  precisely  the  same  sounds, 
and  therefore  a  foreigner  knows  no  better  than  a  child 
how  to  produce  certain  sounds  in  the  language  he  is 
learning.  But,  instead  of  making  a  series  of  experiments, 
as  a  child  would  do,  he  usually  substitutes  the  most 
similar  sound  in  his  own  language.  A  Frenchman 
pronounces  English  "pin"  so  that  it  sounds  to  us  more 
as  if  spelt  "peen";  he  is  substituting  the  French  close 
short  i  for  the  English  open  short  i.  The  vulgar  Ameri- 
can "clis"  and  "chit"  for  "this"  and  "that"  may  have 
originated  with  foreigners  who  had  no  ///-sound  in  their 
native  languages. 

Such  phenomena  as  these  really  belong  to  the  subject 
of  dialect  mixture;  the  man  who  learns  a  foreign  lan- 
guage may  be  said  to  have  adopted  a  new  model,  and 
the  mixture  results  from  the  difficulty  he  has  in  giving 
up  his  earlier  linguistic  habits.  But  since  his  mistakes 
are  inadvertent,  they  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  37 

language  he  is  learning  as  do  the  mistakes  of  a  child. 
As  a  rule  the  use  of  a  language  by  foreigners  who  have 
imperfectly  mastered  it  has  little  permanent  influence 
upon  that  language;  the  foreign  peculiarities  are  felt 
to  be  undesirable  by  all  who  hear  them,  and  so  they  are 
rarely  imitated  except  by  way  of  caricature. 

Associative  Interference 

While  to  the  unscientific  observer  ideas  appear  to  be 
simple  bits  of  mental  experience,  they  are  really  com- 
posite. The  simplest  psychological  fact  is  a  sensation, 
that  is,  a  mental  process  which  comes  to  consciousness 
by  way  of  one  of  the  organs  of  sense.  Sensations  do  not 
occur  singly;  for  example,  if  I  touch  a  piece  of  ice,  I  get  a 
sensation  of  cold  and  a  sensation  of  pressure.  If  my 
eyes  are  open,  I  am  at  the  same  time  getting  some  kind 
of  a  sight  sensation.  All  these  sensations  combined 
form  the  basis  of  the  perception  "piece  of  ice."  An 
idea  is  a  remembered  or  imagined  perception,  and,  as  a 
perception  is  based  upon  sensations,  so  an  idea  is  based 
upon  remembered  sensations.  A  given  sensation  occurs 
in  a  great  many  ideas.  The  sensation  of  cold  forms 
part  of  the  basis  of  the  idea  of  "ice,"  of  "snow,"  of 
"frost,"  of  "winter,"  etc.  When  for  any  reason  the  brain 
cells  concerned  with  the  sensation  of  cold  are  excited, 
any  one  of  the  ideas  based  upon  that  sensation  is  likely 
to  come  into  consciousness.  Since  the  perception  of 
"ice"  involves  such  an  excitation,  that  perception  is 
likely  to  lead  to  the  ideas  "snow,"  "frost,"  "winter," 
etc.  Ideas  which  tend  to  accompany  or  follow  one 
another  in  consciousness  are  said  to  be  associated,  but 
the  term  association  of  ideas  should  not  suggest  to  us 


38  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

that  ideas  are  tied  up  in  bundles  as  it  were.  Ideas  are 
associated  because  they  contain  common  elements. 

It  frequently  happens  that  two  associated  ideas 
come  into  consciousness  in  such  quick  succession  that 
the  reactions  of  the  second  interrupt  the  still  uncom- 
pleted reactions  of  the  first.  This  process  is  known  as 
associative  interference. 

Analogy 

Oertel1  tells  of  hearing  Bishop  Potter  say  "evoid" 
and  at  once  correct  himself,  "both  avoid  and  evade." 
The  idea  "evade"  first  entered  consciousness  and  set 
up  its  reaction,  the  pronunciation  of  the  word;  then  the 
idea  "avoid"  crowded  out  the  first  idea  and  interfered 
with  its  reaction.  To  state  the  same  thing  from  the 
linguistic  point  of  view,  at  first  the  word  "evade"  was 
the  more  prominent  of  the  two  in  thought,  and  then 
"avoid"  intruded  its  second  syllable.  Very  often,  as  in 
this  case,  a  sound  which  is  common  to  both  words  acts  as 
a  sort  of  switch  to  facilitate  the  shift  from  one  to  the 
other.  We  may  figure  the  process  thus  (after  Oertel), 
using  capital  letters  for  the  sounds  actually  spoken: 

a    de 
01  D 

Such  a  common  element,  however,  is  not  necessarily 
present  at  the  point  where  the  shift  occurs.  Meringer 
and  Mayer  report  Abschnatt  resulting  from  the  synonyms 
Abschnitt  and  Absatz. 

A  similar  case  which  has  become  normal  is  English 
"female."  In  French,  male  and  Jemelle  have  no  ety- 

1  Lectures  on  the  Study  of  Language,  p.  167. 


39 

mological  connection  and  only  a  slight  similarity  of 
form.  When  both  words  were  borrowed  by  the  English 
their  close  association  in  meaning  changed  femelle  into 
"female."  Viewed  superficially  the  process  may  be  de- 
scribed as  a  modification  of  the  one  word  on  the  analogy 
of  the  other.  The  process  is  commonly  called  analogy 
or  analogical  change ;  and  since  this  suggests  correctly 
enough  the  linguistic  result,  it  would  scarcely  be  worth 
while  to  substitute  a  term  more  exactly  descriptive  of  the 
psychological  phenomena. 

When  two  words  interfere  with  each  other  in  such  a 
way  that  the  resulting  word  contains  about  equal  parts 
of  both,  the  process  is  sometimes  called  contamination. 
Bawden  (p.  23)  reports  the  slips  "liquals"  from  the 
contamination  of  "liquids"  and  "linguals,"  "ruver- 
shoes"  from  "rubbers"  and  "overshoes,"  "dreeze" 
from  "draft"  and  "breeze,"  "perple"  from  "persons" 
and  "people,"  "spaddle"  from  "spank"  and  "paddle." 
"Beginning"  and  "commencement"  yield  "begince- 
ment."  A  negro  politician  combined  "insinuation" 
and  "innuendo"  in  "insinuendo." 

Sometimes  the  result  of  associative  interference 
between  two  words  is  identical  in  form  with  one  of  the 
words,  and  we  detect  the  interference  only  by  the  com- 
bination of  the  meaning  of  one  word  with  the  form  of 
the  other.  Thus  "to  rinse  clothes "  becomes  "to  wrench 
clothes,"  the  two  words  being  associated  on  the  basis  of 
the  twisting  motion  which  forms  an  element  of  both 
ideas.  The  boys  whom  Mark  Twain  has  immortalized 
in  Tom  Sawyer  say  "marvels"  for  "marbles." 

If  the  association  which  leads  to  analogical  change 
involves  a  false  theory  of  the  etymology  of  the  word 


40  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

affected,  the  change  is  said  to  be  due  to  popular  ety- 
mology. In  Anglo-Saxon  guma  meant  "man,"  and 
brydguma  meant  "bride-man";  but  in  the  course  of  time 
guma  fell  out  of  use,  and  the  second  member  of  the 
compound  was  popularly  connected  with  "groom" ;  hence 
modern  "bridegroom."  French  outrage  is  connected 
with  Latin  ultra,  being  derived  from  *ultragium*  or 
*ultraticum  "excess."  The  English  pronunciation  with 
a  full  vowel  in  the  unaccented  syllable  (contrast  "usage," 
"courage")  is  due  to  a  false  etymology  from  "out" 
and  "rage."  Shakespeare's  "mandragora"  has  become 
"mandrake"  through  a  ridiculous  connection  with 
"man"  and  "drake."  Latin  inuleus  "stag"  became 
hinuleus  through  a  popular  etymology  from  hinnus 
"mule."  Many  people  pronounce  "carousal"  as  if  it 
were  "carry-Sal";  pronunciation,  however,  does  not 
determine  whether  the  synonymous  "merry-go-round" 
is  interpreted  "Mary-go-round." 

Many  association  groups  are  based,  not  upon  mean- 
ing, but  upon  function,  that  is,  upon  what  James2  has 
termed  the  "transitive"  parts  of  the  stream  of  con- 
sciousness. Our  thought  moves  now  more,  now  less, 
rapidly,  and  the  regions  of  less  rapid  change  ("substan- 
tive" states  of  consciousness)  stand  out  so  much  more 
vividly  that  we  are  in  danger  of  thinking  that  they 
constitute  the  whole  of  the  stream  of  consciousness.  I 
awake  and  see  the  sunlight  streaming  in  at  the  window. 
I  wonder  whether  it  is  time  to  get  up.  I  look  at  my 
watch.  Here  are  three  clearly  marked  states  of  con- 

'An  asterisk   prefixed  to  a  word  indicates  that  the  word  does  not 
occur;   but  is  assumed  to  have  existed. 
1  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  I,  243  ff. 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  41 

sciousness,  the  perception  of  the  sunlight,  the  thought  of 
getting-up  time,  and  the  decision  to  look  at  the  watch; 
but  between  these  portions  of  the  train  of  thought 
lie  feelings  of  relation  between  "  sunlight-streaming- 
through-the-window  "  and  "  is-it-time-to-get-up  ? ' ' — 
between  the  latter  and  "look-at-my-watch." 

The  phrase  "the  road  to  Mandalay"  represents  or 
may  represent  three  successive  states  of  consciousness 
("the  road"— "direction"— "the  goal")  of  which  the 
first  and  third  are  substantive  and  the  second  transitive. 
In  the  phrase  "John's  book"  the  transitive  state  of 
consciousness  is  represented  in  connection  with  the  first 
substantive  state;  the  word  "John's"  has  both  word- 
meaning  and  the  function  of  possession.  Properly,  the 
function  of  a  word  is  the  relation  which  it  bears  to  its 
context.  It  is  convenient,  however,  to  extend  the  term 
to  such  semantic  elements  as  number,  person,  and  tense, 
which  are  really  parts  of  the  substantive  states  of  con- 
sciousness (or  of  word-meaning),  but  which  nevertheless 
determine  to  some  extent  the  relationship  of  words  to 
one  another. 

On  the  basis  of  meaning  the  word  "feet"  is  associated 
with  "foot"  and  more  remotely  with  "hand"  and  the 
other  words  for  parts  of  the  body;  but  it  is  also  associated 
on  the  basis  of  function  with  all  other  plurals.  Just  so  all 
present  participles  form  one  association  group  and  all 
genitives  another.  Such  groups  as  these  are  impressed 
on  the  mind  of  all  speakers  from  the  very  fact  that  they 
are  expressed  in  language,  and  the  strength  of  the 
association  varies  directly  with  the  clearness  of  the  lin- 
guistic expression.  The  speakers  of  the  Latin  language 
had  a  clearly  denned  association  group  composed  of 


42  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

accusatives;  every  speaker  associated  bovem  with  bonum, 
exercitum,  hanc,  etc.,  just  because  most  accusatives 
were  marked  by  form,  and  the  category  had  to  be 
reckoned  with  almost  every  time  a  sentence  was  formed 
or  heard.  Consequently  mistakes  in  the  use  of  these 
forms  were  comparatively  rare.  In  English,  on  the 
other  hand,  most  accusatives  are  not  distinguished  by 
form,  and  therefore  we  have  great  difficulty  in  keeping 
"me,"  "us,"  "him,"  "her,"  "them,"  and  "whom"  in 
their  proper  place. 

An  analogical  change  of  form  resulting  from  a 
functional  group  is  the  childish  "feets"  for  "feet." 
The  familiar  word  "feet"  is  interfered  with  and  altered 
by  the  associated  words  "hands,"  "lips,"  "books," 
"plates,"  etc.  "Worser"  and  "lesser"  are  the  irregular 
comparatives  of  "worse"  and  "less"  modified  by  the 
influence  of  the  regular  type;  by  a  strange  chance 
"lesser"  has  become  correct,  that  is,  usual,  while 
"worser"  remains  an  outcast.  Latin  fio  is  conjugated 
in  the  present-stem  tenses  like  an  active  verb;  its 
meaning,  however,  is  passive,  and  the  present  infinitive 
fiere,  which  was  still  used  by  Ennius,  was  remodeled  into 
fieri  under  the  influence  of  amari,  aiuiiri,  etc. 

In  many  cases  the  analogical  influence  of  the  func- 
tional group  is  a  more  complicated  matter  which  we 
call  analogical  creation.  A  child  in  counting  the  vari- 
ous parts  of  his  body  says,  "One  hand,  two  hands; 
one  ear,  two  ears;  one  lip,  two  lips;  one  foot,  two 
fools."  In  this  case  we  have,  not  a  modification  of 
something  old,  as  in  the  case  of  "feets,"  but  a  new 
creation  on  the  basis  of  a  known  relationship.  The 
process  may  be  stated  as  a  problem  in  proportion: 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  43 

"  lip  "  :"lips"="  foot  ":*.  The  child  gives  the  correct 
solution,  "foots." 

Such  creations  are  very  common  in  the  speech  of 
children  and  illiterate  adults.  Everyone  has  heard 
"catched"  for  "caught,"  "growed"  for  "grew,"  "oxes" 
for  "oxen,"  "yous"  for  "you"  plural,  "littler,"  etc. 
"Brung"  for  "brought"  arose  from  the  proportion 
"sing" :" sung "=  "bring" :x.  Latin  ipse  is  a  com- 
pound of  is  and  a  particle  pse,  and  was  originally  declined 
is-pse,  ea-pse,  accusative  eum-pse,  eam-pse,  etc.  The 
nominative  masculine  became  ipse  by  a  process  which 
we  shall  consider  later,  and  then  the  other  forms  (except 
the  neuter  ipsum)  were  created  on  the  analogy  of  iste 
and  ille,  that  is,  iste  :ista=  ipse  :x. 

It  is  often  doubtful  whether  a  change  is  due  to  the 
simpler  or  to  the  more  complex  sort  of  analogy — to  mere 
associative  interference  or  to  analogical  creation.  The 
occasional  pronunciation  "naytional"  is  of  course  due 
to  the  word  "nation";  but  it  may  be  either  a  modifica- 
tion of  "national"  with  associative  interference  by 
"nation,"  or  it  may  be  a  new  derivative  from  "nation" 
on  the  model  of  such  pairs  as  "  convention" :"  conven- 
tional," "culture": "cultural."  There  is  similar  doubt 
about  the  origin  of  "preferable"  with  the  accent  of 
"prefer,"  and  of  Latin  consacro  with  the  vowel  of  sacro, 
in  place  of  the  regular  form  consecro.  The  original 
genitive  of  the  Latin  fourth  declension  was  the  form  in 
-us.  In  Plautus  we  find  also  the  endings  -I  and  -uis 
which  come,  respectively,  from  the  second  declension 
and  the  third.  These  forms  may  be  Analogical  crea- 
tions :  amicus :  amid  =fructus :  x  (fructi] ,  seni  (dative) : 
senis=anui  (dative): x  (anuis).  But  it  is  also  possible 


44  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

that  the  old  genitives  fructus  and  anus  were  present  to 
consciousness  when  the  new  forms  were  first  pronounced 
and  were  altered  by  the  simultaneous  remembrance  of  a 
word  or  words  with  the  same  function.  In  many 
instances,  no  doubt,  both  processes  co-operate  in 
originating  a  linguistic  change. 

Association  within  the  Sentence 

A  quite  different  sort  of  association  is  that  based  upon 
the  structure  of  a  sentence,  phrase,  or  word.  One  usually 
has  a  considerable  part  of  a  sentence  shaped  in  his 
mind  before  he  begins  to  speak.  As  he  proceeds,  the 
several  parts  of  the  sentence  come  successively  into  the 
focus  of  consciousness;  but  at  any  given  moment 
the  words  already  spoken,  although  they  have  passed  out 
of  the  focus,  are  still  present  in  the  fringe  of  consciousness 
where  they  are  gradually  fading  away,  and  the  parts 
of  the  sentence  which  are  yet  to  be  uttered  are  gradually 
becoming  more  distinct  in  preparation  for  their  emer- 
gence into  the  focus.  One  or  another  of  these  may  rise 
into  the  focus  out  of  its  proper  turn  and  interfere  with 
the  sound  then  being  uttered. 

The  most  common  occurrence  of  this  kind  is  the 
anticipation  of  a  word  or  syllable  or  sound  which  belongs 
later  in  the  sentence.  Bawden  reports  many  such 
cases.  A  person  intended  to  say  "spring  chicken,  ten 
cents  a  pound,"  but  anticipation  of  the  /  of  "ten"' 
changed  "chicken"  into  "ticken."  Other  examples  are 
"put  my  coat  in  your  pocket"  for  "put  my  cup  in  your 
coat-pocket,"  "praying  on  the  street"  for  "playing  on 
the  street."  Meringcr  reports  among  many  others  the 
lapse  das  instruirlc  —  konstruirte  Instrument;  the  speaker 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  45 

intended  to  say  das  konstmirte  Instrument,  but  the 
second  main  word  interfered  with  the  first  and  altered 
its  initial  syllable;  he  then  detected  his  mistake  and 
corrected  it  before  completing  his  sentence.  Oertel  re- 
ports "it  outveighs  in  value  "  for  "it  outweighs  in  value." 

The  forms  which  appear  in  the  other  Indo-European 
languages  would  lead  one  to  expect  English  "four"  and 
German  vier  to  begin  with  h.  The  labial  spirant  which 
we  actually  find  comes  from  the  following  numeral, 
English  "five,"  German  funf.  Similarly,  the  Latin 
word  for  "nine"  ought  to  be  *noven,  with  the  same 
nasal  that  appears  in  nonus,  but  the  anticipation  of 
decem  changed  *noven  to  novem.  Such  changes  as  these 
and  the  converse  alteration  of  a  numeral  under  the 
influence  of  the  one  before  it  bear  witness  to  the  fre- 
quency of  counting  among  primitive  people  who  do  not 
understand  the  simple  arithmetical  processes. 

When  one  word  interferes  with  another,  the  sounds 
which  come  into  conflict  usually  stand  under  the  same 
accentual  conditions.  In  "spring  chicken,  ten  cents  a 
pound,"  the  interfering  sounds,  ch  and  /,  are  the  initials 
of  the  most  emphatic  syllables  of  the  sentence.  In  das 
konstruirte  Instrument,  kon-  and  In-  have  the  secondary 
accent  of  their  respective  words.  In  "it  outweighs  in 
value,"  w  and  v  are  initial  consonants  of  accented  syl- 
lables, and  the  same  holds  true  of  the  interfering  sounds 
of  the  numerals  "four"  and  "five."  In  novem  and 
decem  the  conflicting  nasals  are  final  consonants  of 
unaccented  syllables. 

Sounds  which  are  contiguous  or  separated  by  only  a 
few  other  sounds  may  interfere  with  each  other,  even 
though  they  do  not  stand  under  the  same  accentual 


46  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

conditions.  Bawden  cites  "has  the  belly  been  passed  ? " 
"belly"  is  "jelly"  with  interference  by  the  initial  of 
the  next  word.  Of  great  linguistic  importance  is  the 
assimilation  of  contiguous  consonants.  The  compound 
"cupboard"  was  once  pronounced  as  it  is  spelled;  after 
the  first  vowel  the  vocal  chords  ceased  to  vibrate  as  the 
lips  were  closed  for  the  />-sound,  the  closure  was  main- 
tained a  moment,  and  then  the  vocal  chords  began  to 
vibrate  as  the  lips  were  opened.  But  some  speaker 
anticipated  the  voice  which  is  proper  to  b  while  he  was 
closing  the  lips  for  p;  and  so  he  pronounced  a  double  b. 
Modern  pronunciation  simplifies  the  double  consonant. 
The  assimilation  seen  in  Latin  appono  for  adpono  is  a 
little  more  complicated  in  the  muscular  changes  involved. 
The  original  sound -group  consisted  of  a  closure  of  the 
mouth  passage  in  the  ^-position  while  the  vocal  chords 
were  vibrating,  then  a  closure  of  the  lips,  a  relaxation 
of  the  (/-contact,  and  finally  an  opening  of  the  lips  with- 
out accompanying  voice.  When  the  d  was  assimilated 
both  the  closure  of  the  lips  and  the  cessation  of  voice 
were  anticipated.  The  change  of  inmitto  to  immitto 
involved  merely  the  anticipation  of  the  lip  closure  of  m, 
while  the  change  of  opmitto  to  ommitto  involved  the 
anticipation  of  voice  and  of  the  opening  of  the  nasal 
passage. 

In  these  cases  the  assimilation  results  in  the  virtual 
identity  of  the  two  consonants.  Frequently  only  some 
characteristic  of  the  second  consonant  is  anticipated,  as 
when  a  voiced  consonant  before  an  unvoiced  consonant 
loses  its  vocal  quality,  or  an  unvoiced  consonant  before 
a  voiced  consonant  becomes  voiced.  When  *opduco 
became  obduco,  the  only  change  was  that  the  vocaj 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  47 

chords  began  to  vibrate  for  d  during  the  closure  of  the 
lips  for  p. 

Less  frequently  a  consonant  partially  assimilates  a 
preceding  vowel.  Latin  novus  is  the  same  word  as 
Greek  veos  (originally  vefos),  and  so  novus  was  once 
*nevos.  A  comparison  with  Gothic  niun  shows  that  the 
Latin  word  for  "nine"  changed  from  *neven  to  novem; 
in  both  of  these  words  ev  became  ov.  The  consonant 
w  (Latin  v)  involves  two  partial  closures  of  the  mouth 
passage,  one  with  the  lips  and  the  other  between  the 
surface  of  the  tongue  and  the  soft  palate.  The  vowel  o 
involves  a  lesser  degree  of  closure  a  little  farther  forward 
in  the  mouth  and  also  a  slight  closure  of  the  lips.  The 
vowel  e,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  front  vowel  without 
closure  of  the  lips.  A  change  of  e  to  o  before  the  con- 
sonant w  is  therefore  a  partial  assimilation. 

The  assimilation  of  one  vowel  to  another  is  most 
easily  studied  in  the  case  where  they  are  separated  by 
one  or  more  consonants.  In  nearly  all  of  Meringer's 
examples  the  two  sounds  have  similar  accentuation;  he 
reports  interference  between  vowels  which  stand  in  con- 
tiguous syllables  with  different  accent  only  in  a  few 
lapses  such  as  msllaucht  for  melleicht  auch  and  hat  soch 
for  hat  sick  dock.  Bawden  reports  "accustim"  for  "ac- 
custom him."1 

At  an  early  stage  in  the  history  of  the  West  Germanic 
languages  (English,  German,  Dutch,  etc.)  unaccented 
vowels  exerted  a  widespread  influence  over  the  accented 
vowels  of  the  initial  syllables.  In  particular  the  vowel 
i  in  inflectional  endings  and  suffixes  tended  to  convert 

1  Many  scholars  include  such  examples  as  these  under  haplology, 
but  I  prefer  to  restrict  that  term  as  explained  on  p.  54. 


48  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

back  vowels  into  front  or  intermediate  vowels.  In 
Old  High  German  the  plural  of  lamb  is  lembir.  Anglo- 
Saxon  exhibits  the  modern  contrast  between  "long" 
and  " length"  in  the  equivalent  lang  and  lengdu,  the 
latter  of  which  was  originally  *lang-ipa.  In  Anglo- 
Saxon  the  plural  ending  -iz  of  consonant  stems  was 
lost  before  our  earliest  documents  were  written,  but 
we  still  see  traces  of  it  in  such  plurals  as  ''men" 
from  prehistoric  *manniz  and  "feet"  from  prehistoric 
*fotiz. 

The  assimilative  influence  which  was  exerted  by 
Latin  v  (that  is,  w)  in  novem  from  *neven  is  more  often 
exerted  by  the  vowel  w  in  a  following  syllable.  Avestan 
vohu  comes  from  *vahu  (Sanskrit  vasu},  and  mosu  from 
*masu  (Sanskrit  maksu).  In  Anglo-Saxon  u  converted 
a  preceding  front  vowel  into  a  diphthong;  beside 
Gothic  miluks  Anglo-Saxon  has  mioluc  "milk,"  and 
*sefum,  the  primitive  Germanic  word  for  "seven," 
appears  in  Anglo-Saxon  as  seofon. 

Complete  assimilation  of  a  vowel  to  a  following 
vowel  is  seen  in  Latin  rutundus  for  rotundits  and  in  the 
epigraphical  Sabastianus  and  vixillo  for  Sebastianus  and 
vexillo.  Of  the  countless  examples  in  Greek  inscriptions 
and  papyri  we  may  cite  ij^vav  for  r}/zwu  in  many  Attic 
inscrij)tions. 

It  is  not  easy  to  detect  cases  of  the  assimilation  of 
vowels  in  contact,  for  contraction  usually  results  imme- 
diately. If,  as  many  scholars  assume,  assimilation  is  a 
necessary  preliminary  to  the  contraction  of  unlike  vowels 
into  a  monophthong,  we  must  conclude  that  Latin 
pi  antes  (subjunctive)  from  *plantayes  passed  through 
the  stage  *  plan  tees,  and  that  Anglo-Saxon  na  (English 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  49 

"no")  came  from  *ne-a  through  an  intermediate  stage 
*na-a.  Parallel  cases  are  common  in  every  language. 

Just  as  a  sound  soon  to  be  pronounced  tends  to  be 
anticipated,  so  a  sound  already  spoken  tends  to  be 
repeated.  The  psychological  process  is  almost  the  same, 
but  the  result  upon  language  is  different,  and  the  phe- 
nomenon is  less  frequent.  The  instances  may  be  grouped 
in  the  same  way  as  those  of  anticipation. 

Meringer  reports  many  cases  of  the  alteration  of  a 
word  by  a  preceding  word  in  the  same  sentence,  for 
example,  Durch  den  Wold  fuhrt  ein  schoner  Wag  (that  is, 
Weg).  A  numeral  may  be  affected  by  a  preceding  one; 
several  Greek  dialects  have  OKTCJ  "  eight "  and  «Wa  "  nine  " 
with  the  rough  breathing  of  eTrro,  "seven."  Assimilation 
of  a  consonant  to  another  immediately  preceding  it  is 
much  less  common  than  the  progressive  assimilation 
already  discussed.  Latin  pello  is  from  *pelno  (cf. 
Greek  TrtAfctyucu) .  The  Greek  name  HoXvdevK-rjs  became 
in  Latin  first  Polduces  and  then  Polluces  (whence  Pollux) . 
Latin  sallo  "I  salt"  was  originally  *saldo,  as  is  shown 
by  the  /  of  English  "salt."  In  Oscan  and  Umbrian  nd 
became  nn,  as  in  the  Oscan  gerundive  upsannam  (facien- 
dam).  Plautus'  dispennite  and  distennite  for  dispendite 
and  distendite  remind  us  that  he  was  born  in  the  Umbrian 
town  of  Sarsina.  Assimilation  of  a  consonant  to  a 
preceding  consonant  is  seen  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  pret- 
erite grille  from  *gret-de,  and  partial  assimilation  in 
lecte  from  *icc-de.  Partial  assimilation  is  regular  in  the 
English  plural  suffix,  which  is  s  after  voiceless  consonants 
("lips''),  but  z  after  voiced  consonants  ("ears"). 

In  Latin  a  short  vowel  before  a  single  consonant 
regularly  appears  as  i  (with  certain  exceptions)  in  any 


50  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

syllable  except  the  first  and  last  of  a  word;  but  the 
vowel  of  the  initial  syllable  has  assimilated  that  of  the 
second  syllable  in  alacer,  elementum,  vegetus,  and  some 
other  words.  An  Attic  inscription  of  the  fourth  century 
B.C.  shows  2I/3iXXa  for  2t/3uXXa.  Quite  frequently  the 
assimilative  influence  comes  from  both  directions,  as  in 
English  "woman"  from  early  English  wimman  (Anglo- 
Saxon  wifman),  whose  first  vowel  has  been  altered 
chiefly  by  the  consonants  preceding  and  following;  that 
the  vowel  of  the  second  syllable  was  also  of  some  influ- 
ence is  shown  by  the  vowel  of  the  plural  "women" 
(pronounced  "wimin"). 

When  two  sounds  or  groups  of  sounds  interfere  with 
each  other,  the  result  is  sometimes  an  exchange  of  places, 
a  process  which  has  long  been  called  metathesis  in  our 
grammars.  Here  again  most  of  Meringer's  examples 
fall  under  the  case  where  the  two  sounds  stand  under 
similar  accentual  conditions,  for  example,  Bui  mid  Glut 
for  Gut  und  Blut,  mid  damin  bit  ich  einig  for  und  damit  bin 
ich  einig.  He  admits,  however,  that  b  and  g  sometimes 
suffer  metathesis  when  they  belong  to  syllables  of  differ- 
ent accentuation,  as  in  gcbinnt  for  beginnt,  Begrauch  for 
Gebrauch,  etc.  Several  others  of  his  examples  are  of  the 
same  character,  although  he  seems  not  to  be  aware  of  the 
fact,  for  example,  die  Callaverie  for  die  Cavallerie,  Prular 
for  Plural,  Fraumeirer  for  Freimaurer.  Bawden  records 
many  examples  of  both  types.  The  interfering  sounds 
stand  under  similar  accentuation  in  "fcak  and  weeble" 
for  "weak  and  feeble,"  "the  water  the  wetter"  for 
"the  wetter  the  water,"  "plotoprasm"  for  "proto- 
plasm." The  accentual  circumstances  of  the  transposed 
sounds  differ  in  "ennaxation"  for  "annexation,"  "doni- 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  51 

moes"  for  "dominoes,"  "regural"  for  "regular," 
"evelate"  for  "elevate,"  and  a  number  of  others.  In 
nearly  all  of  his  cases,  however,  as  in  all  of  Meringer's, 
we  have  metathesis  of  sounds  which  are  not  immediately 
contiguous. 

That  two  consonants  in  contact  may  suffer  metath- 
esis is  shown  by  one  of  Bawden's  examples:  "wist" 
for  "wits."  Similar  instances  that  have  become  usual 
speech-forms  are  seen  in  Anglo-Saxon  axian  beside 
ascian,  whence  dialectic  Modern  English  "ax"  beside  the 
normal  "ask."  Similarly,  Latin  ascia  "ax"  is  related  to 
Greek  a^lvrj.  French  fixe,  taxe,  sexe  become  fisque, 
tasque,  sesque  in  the  dialect  of  Paris.  Metathesis  of  a 
vowel  and  a  consonant  is  seen  in  Chaucer's  brid  for 
"bird"  (which  had  a  full  vowel  in  Chaucer's  time),  and 
in  many  Greek  words  such  as  Cretan  'A</>op5tra  for 
'A$po5iT77  and  Homer's  drapTros  beside  Attic  drpaTros. 
Sometimes  metathesis  simply  moves  a  sound  out  of  its 
position,  as  in  "maganoli"  for  "magnolia,"  a  mis- 
pronunciation of  a  child  of  six  years,  and  in  Bawden's 
"  disintregation  "  and  "standsone."  Of  the  same  nature 
is  Prancatius  for  Pancratius  on  a  Latin  inscription,  and 
Syracusan  Greek  8pl<pos  for  dl^pos.  In  Latin  cocodrillus 
for  crocodillus  a  sound  is  displaced  in  the  other  direction. 

We  have  noted  that  cases  of  associative  interference 
which  are  not  repeated  or  imitated,  such  as  those 
observed  by  Meringer,  usually  concern  sounds  which 
stand  under  similar  accentual  conditions.  Now  the 
cases  which  become  permanent  features  of  a  language 
almost  as  regularly  concern  neighboring  sounds.  The 
explanation  seems  to  be  this:  since  an  accentual  group 
commonly  embraces  a  whole  word  or  several  words,  an 


52  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

interference  between  sounds  of  similar  accentual  relations 
usually  involves  two  or  more  words,  and  therefore  cannot 
recur  until  the  same  combination  of  words  occurs  again. 
An  interference  between  neighboring  sounds,  on  the 
other  hand,  usually  involves  only  one  word,  and  may 
therefore  recur  whenever  the  word  is  spoken.  So,  al- 
though changes  of  the  second  sort  are  far  less  common 
than  the  others,  each  one  of  them  is  more  likely  to  be 
repeated  and  hence  to  find  imitators. 

The  phenomena  of  anticipation  and  repetition  (com- 
pare pages  44-49)  seem  to  be  reversed  in  the  somewhat 
less  common  process  which  is  called  dissimilation.  There 
are  four  cases  to  be  distinguished,  the  fourth  of  which  is 
essentially  different  from  the  others: 

1.  Repetition   of   a   sound   or   group   of   sounds   is 
avoided  (quite  unintentionally,  of  course)  by  the  sup- 
pression   of    one    of    the    two    occurrences.     Meringer 
reports  hat  Dii's  gesagt  for  hast  Du's  gesagt  and  a  great 
many  similar  lapses.     Latin  vesli-spica  becomes  vesli- 
pica;     Greek    dpu^paKros    becomes    6pu0a/cros,    </>parpta 
becomes  </>arpia;    German  Friedrich  becomes  Friedich. 
An  entire  syllable  is  lost  in  "coborative"  for  "corrobora- 
tive,"   a    lapse    reported    by    Uawden,    and    in    Greek 
'ATroXXa^dfT??  for  'ATroXXcoj'cx/xH'T/s. 

2.  Repetition  is  avoided  by  altering  the  sound  in  one 
of  its  two  occurrences.     From   Meringer's  half-dozen 
examples  we  select  ein  grosser  Glen-  (immediately  cor- 
rected by  the  speaker  to  Grcucl).     Latin  turtur  yields 
English   "turtle-dove"  and   German   Turtel-taube;    the 
Latin  suffix  alls  (sacralis,  principalis,  nivalis)  appears 
as  aris  when  appended  to  a  base  containing  /,  for  ex- 
ample, alaris,  exemplaris,  familiar  is.    The  dissimilation  of 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  53 

vowels  is  illustrated  by  pepi  for  pipi,  mema  for  mama, 
and  pape  for  papa  in  the  speech  of  very  young  French 
children.1 

3.  Sometimes  a  regular  sound-change  is  avoided  if  it 
would  lead  to  the  repetition  of  a  sound.  In  Latin  e,  a, 
and  6  before  single  consonants  in  medial  syllables  became 
£,  as  in  reficio  beside  facio.  An  intermediate  stage  in  the 
change  was  e,  and  this  was  retained  when  i  preceded, 
societas  (from  *socio-tas)  beside  mcinitas;  variegare 
beside  purigare;  aries,  arietis  beside  miles,  militis. 
Original  5  was  retained  after  u  in  early  Latin  in  such 
words  as  mortuos  and  arguont,  although  it  had  already 
become  u  in  such  words  as  bonus  and  agunt. 

Dissimilation  certainly  belongs  under  the  head  of 
associative  interference,  for  one  of  the  sounds  could  not 
influence  the  other  if  they  did  not  somehow  get  into 
consciousness  at  the  same  time.  The  exact  manner 
of  the  interference,  however,  is  not  fully  understood. 
Brugmann  founds  his  explanation  upon  an  involuntary 
reaction  of  the  speaker  which  he  calls  horror  aequi.  This 
Latin  name  leaves  the  psychological  process  quite  un- 
explained; and  besides,  certain  facts  indicate  that  there 
is  no  horror  aequi.  Extended  alliterations  have  some- 
times been  admired;  one  may  cite  Ennius'  lines: 

O  Tite  tute  Tati  tibi  tanta  turanne  tulisti, 
and 

Sole  luna  luce  lucet  alba  leni  lactea. 

Even  though  modern  taste  condemns  this  as  a  poetic 
device,  we  find  nothing  difficult  in  the  repetition  of  the 
sounds,  and  we  can  understand  how  they  might  give 

1  Reported  by  Grammont,  Melanges  Meillet,  64;  and  Deville,  Rev. 
de  linguistique,  XXIV,  10-15. 


54  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

pleasure.  But  no  one  could  find  aesthetic  pleasure  or 
fail  to  find  difficulty  in  the  nonsense  syllables:  "Peter 
Piper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  peppers;  where  is  the 
peck  of  pickled  peppers  Peter  Piper  picked?"  The 
trouble  comes  from  the  alternation  of  slightly  dissimilar 
sounds — in  this  case,  the  voiceless  mutes  />,  /,  and  k. 
In  the  sentence,  "an  old  cold  scold  sold  a  school  coal 
skuttle,"  the  most  difficult  set  of  alternating  sounds  is 
c,  sc,  and  s.  To  translate  this  into  terms  of  the  physi- 
ology of  speech,  it  is  easy  to  repeat  a  given  articulation 
an  indefinite  number  of  times,  but  it  is  difficult  to  pro- 
duce a  succession  of  muscular  co-ordinations  which  differ 
slightly  from  one  another. 

In  pronouncing  these  cacophonous  combinations  the 
tendency  is  toward  a  further  assimilation;  we  say 
"Peper  Piper,"  "pickled  peckers,"  or  "scoal-skuttle." 
Apparently  the  tendency  toward  dissimilation  arises 
only  in  case  the  interfering  groups  are  of  such  a  char- 
acter as  to  make  assimilation  inconvenient.  The 
assimilated  form  of  hast  Du's  gesagt?  would  be  has  gu's 
gesagt?  but  this  would  introduce  two  unfamiliar  forms 
into  the  sentence,  and  we  shall  see  later  that  linguistic 
innovations  tend  to  produce  familiar  sounds  and  com- 
binations. The  assimilated  form  of  societas  would  be 
socicitas  or  socititas,  either  one  of  which  would  be  easy 
to  pronounce,  but  out  of  harmony  with  established 
linguistic  habits;  soclitas  would  yield  socitas,  and  that, 
too,  would  be  a  linguistic  monstrosity. 

4.  The  term  haplology  is  sometimes  applied  to  any 
dissimilative  loss  of  a  syllable,  but  we  shall  restrict  its 
use  to  a  certain  group  of  cases  which  seem  to  differ 
psychologically  from  other  kinds  of  dissimilation.  If  a 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  55 

vowel  stands  between  similar  consonants  or  consonant 
groups,  the  vowel  and  one  of  the  consonants  or  consonant 
groups  tend  to  be  lost,  as  when  Latin  *semimodius 
became  semodius.  The  dissimilative  character  of  the 
change  is  apparent;  but  the  distinctive  feature  of 
haplology  is  that  the  consonant  forms  a  sort  of  switch 
from  one  syllable  to  the  next.  In  the  following  diagram 
(a  modification  of  one  in  Oertel1)  the  capital  letters  indi- 
cate the  sounds  actually  spoken,  and  the  letter  extending 
across  both  lines  represents  the  sound  which  was  common 
to  both  original  syllables: 

SEli  Ti- 
IVIODIUS 

A  child  intended  to  say  "Post  Toasties"  (the  name  of  a 
certain  cereal  preparation),  but  actually  said  "Posties." 
Our  diagram  stands: 

O  1  IES 

The  process  is  obviously  similar  to  the  analogical 
changes  which  were  discussed  on  page  38. 

Other  instances  of  haplology  are  Latin  nutrix  for 
*nutri-trix,  scripsti  for  scripsisti,  amatust  for  amatus  est, 
Greek  yij.ibiij.vov  for  ly/u-^e'Si/^oj',  German  Superindent 
for  Superintendent.  English  "Gloucester"  was  once 
pronounced  in  three  syllables,  "  Glousester,"  the  second 
of  which  has  been  lost  by  haplology.  Chaucer  pro- 
nounced the  adverb  from  the  adjective  "humble"  in 
three  syllables,  humblely,  while  we  say  "humbly." 
Shakespeare's  verse  requires  us  to  read  "prevent  it" 

1  Op.  tit.,  p.  208. 


56  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

as    "prevent'."    One    often    hears    the   pronunciation 
"libry"  for  "library"  and  "probly"  for  "probably." 

Rhythm 

One  of  the  most  fundamental  facts  of  human  nature 
is  the  sense  of  rhythm,  which  results  in  large  part  from 
the  swinging  motion  of  legs  and  arms.  "The  four 
limbs,"  says  Titchener,1  "are,  so  to  speak,  four  pendulums 
attached  to  the  trunk  of  the  body.  As  we  run  or  walk 
the  legs  swing  alternately,  and  with  each  leg  swings 
the  arm  on  the  opposite  side."  Particularly  important 
for  our  purpose  is  the  auditory  rhythm  which  may  be 
observed  in  pure  form  by  listening  to  the  ticking  of  a 
clock;  although  all  the  beats  may  be  precisely  alike,  we 
hear  them  in  groups:  "tick  tock,  tick  tock"  or  "tick 
tock,  tick  tock;  tick  tock,  tick  tock."  Very  commonly 
the  tactual  rhythm  of  walking  is  associated  with  the 
auditory  rhythm  of  our  footfalls. 

The  importance  of  rhythm  in  poetry  is  too  familiar 
to  require  comment,  and  all  readers  of  this  book  are 
aware  that  there  is  much  regularity  of  rhythm  in  artistic 
prose.2  The  rhythmic  modulation  of  even  the  simplest 
speech  may  be  seen  by  analyzing  a  bit  of  conversation 
taken  at  random  from  Mark  Twain's  Tom  Sawyer. 
Musical  notation  is  used  for  convenience,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  speech  is  too  flexible  to  fit  a  mathematical 
scheme.  Although  in  some  instances  the  time  indicated 
is  only  approximately  correct,  the  intervals  of  time 
between  accents  are  virtually  the  same  throughout. 

1  Primer  of  Psychology,  p.  113. 

3  For  a  scientific  treatment  of  this  subject,  see  W.  M.  Patterson, 
The  Rhythm  of  Prose. 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  57 

"What    do      you      call      work?" 

J     J     J     J      J 


Why,  ain't      that        work?" 


J          X         J          j  J 

-  be      it       is,        and  may  -  be 

J    *  J    J    J    J      J    J    J    J    J  * 


Well,        may -be      it       is,        and  may -be      It    ain't. 


All       I       know     13  It    suits    Tom    Saw-yer." 

j  j   j   J  *  J  j   j    j.  ; 

The  dynamic  character  of  stress-rhythm  appears 
quite  clearly  in  such  pairs  of  words  as  "transport" 
and  "transportation,"  "corroborate"  and  "corrobora- 
tion";  the  fixed  accent  of  the  suffix  -dtion  induces  a 
secondary  accent  on  the  second  or  third  syllable  pre- 
ceding and  sometimes,  as  in  our  first  example,  on  a 
syllable  which  in  the  primitive  is  unaccented.  Similarly, 
the  initial  accent  of  German  Vorurteil*  inverts  the  accent 
of  the  second  member  of  the  compound  (Urteil).  The 
tendency  appears  even  more  impressively  in  longer 
compounds,  such  as  RealschuloberUJirer .  Similar  phe- 
nomena may  sometimes  be  observed  in  the  phrase.  A 
number  of  Swedish  and  Danish  dissyllables  have  the 
accent  on  the  final  syllable,  except  when  they  stand 
before  an  accented  syllable,  for  example,  Swedish  kusin, 

1  The  secondary  accent  of  this  word  is  very  weak,  but  there  seems 
to  be  no  doubt  of  its  position  on  the  final  syllable. 


58  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

but  kusiri  Anna;  Danish  Emil,  but  Emil  Hdnsen.  At 
one  time  such  a  variation  was  common  in  English  also; 
in  Chaucer  we  find  cosyn,  but  cosyn  myn,  etc.,  and  in 
Shakespeare  "impure"  beside  ''impure  blots,"  and  many 
other  instances.  Later  poets  occasionally  use  such 
phrases  as  "obscure  death"  (Shelley),  "despised 
monarch"  (Byron),  "an  occult  hint"  (Whittier).  The 
last-mentioned  adjective  still  shows  the  variation  in 
prose,  at  least  in  America,  as  also  do  "contrite"  and 
"inverse." 

We  have  seen  (page  22)  that  although  the  word 
"heaven"  is  normally  a  dissyllable  a  reduction  of  the 
stress  of  n  until  the  total  intensity  of  that  sound  falls 
below  the  intensity  of  v  converts  the  word  into  a  mono- 
syllable. Since  an  increase  of  stress  on  a  given  syllable 
usually  induces  a  diminution  of  stress  on  neighboring 
syllables,  a  strong  stress-accent  tends  to  suppress 
unaccented  syllables  whose  most  sonorous  sound  is  a 
consonant.  The  weakened  consonant  may  attach 
itself  to  the  accented  syllable,  as  in  the  case  of  "heav'n," 
but  quite  as  often  it  goes  with  a  neighboring  unaccented 
syllable.  The  second  syllable  of  "generally"  has  no 
vowel,  but  in  careful,  deliberate  pronunciation  we  make 
the  sonorous  consonant  r  carry  the  syllable  ("gen-r-/-y"). 
When  we  speak  more  rapidly  the  stress  on  the  first 
syllable  reduces  the  stress  of  r  until  its  intensity  falls 
below  that  of  the  following  sound,  and  we  say  "gen-r/-y." 

A  strong  stress-accent  also  tends  to  reduce  the 
sonorousness  of  unaccented  vowels,  a  process  which  is 
called  vowel-weakening.  In  prehistoric  Latin  there  was 
a  stress-accent  on  the  initial  syllable  of  every  word, 
and  it  was  this  accent  which  changed  a  to  c  and  then 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  59 

(before  single  consonants)  to  #,  as  in  abigo  beside  ago  and 
reficio  beside  facio.  By  degrees  the  most  sonorous  of  the 
vowels  changed  to  one  of  the  least  sonorous  under  the 
influence  of  stress  on  a  neighboring  syllable. 

Frequently  a  heavy  stress-accent  leads  to  the  loss  of 
unaccented  vowels.  Latin  has  many  such ' '  syncopated ' ' 
forms  as  repperi  from  *re-peperi,  iunior  from  *iuvenior, 
pergo  from  *per-rego.  Sometimes  when  a  vowel  is  lost 
in  this  way  a  sonorous  consonant  prevents  the  syllable 
from  being  lost.  English  "vocalic"  has  a  vowel  in  the 
second  syllable,  but  in  "vocalization"  the  accent  on 
the  first  syllable  causes  the  vowel  of  the  second  syllable 
to  be  lost  and  leaves  /  as  the  most  sonorous  sound 
in  its  syllable.  A  further  reduction  of  stress  in  rapid 
speech  causes  the  loss  of  the  syllable,  "vo-cli-za-tion." 

The  rhythmic  tendency  of  pitch-accent  is  scarcely 
less  strong  than  that  of  stress-accent.  Even  in  a  lan- 
guage which  makes  as  little  of  pitch  as  English,  speech 
in  a  monotone  is  exceedingly  disagreeable  and  quite 
rare.  Our  pitch,  like  that  of  French  and  German,  is 
chiefly  a  function  of  the  sentence;  we  vary  the  pitch  of 
individual  words  almost  at  will. 

In  many  languages  the  pitch  of  particular  words  and 
syllables  is  as  definitely  fixed  as  their  stress  is  in  English. 
In  Chinese  and  some  other  languages  a  variation  in 
pitch,  even  though  the  sound  be  otherwise  unchanged, 
is  felt  to  produce  a  new  word  which  is  capable  of  carrying 
an  entirely  different  meaning.  Even  where  there  is  a 
relatively  fixed  system  of  pitch-accent,  alterations  are 
made  under  the  influence  of  the  rhythmic  tendency,  for 
example,  Greek  <r<3/xo,  re:  \6jos  re  (somd  te:  logos  te}. 
As  far  as  we  know,  pitch-accent  does  not  exert  any 


60  .LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

influence  upon  the  quality  or  quantity  of  vowels  or 
consonants. 

That  the  rhythmic  tendency  applies  to  quantity  as 
well  as  to  accent  is  shown  by  the  quantitative  verse  of 
Greek,  Latin,  and  many  other  languages  and  also  by 
the  quantitative  rhythm  of  artistic  classical  prose.  In 
most  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  authors,  to  be  sure,  we 
find  few  variations  from  the  normal  quantity  for  metrical 
purposes,  except  in  foreign  words  and  proper  names.  In 
Homer,  however,  such  variation  is  frequent  (for  example 
tvi'.dvi  Qypyffi),  and  it  has  been  plausibly  suggested1 
that  in  early  Greek  this  was  a  feature  of  ordinary  speech. 
Some  scholars  assume  such  variation  in  the  Indo- 
European  parent-speech  to  account  for  pairs  like 
eXa0p6repos:ao0tbrepos,  SouXoow?/ :  lepcoow?;,  and  the  San- 
skrit reduplicated  aorists  aqiqriyam  :  ajljanam. 

In  languages  such  as  English,  which  have  a  strong 
stress-accent,  quantitative  rhythm  is  so  largely  domi- 
nated by  accentual  rhythm  that  it  can  hardly  be  studied 
separately;  nearly  all  unaccented  vowels  have  been 
shortened. 

Speed  of  Utterance 

We  have  seen  that  an  increase  in  the  speed  of  utter- 
ance increases  the  effect  of  a  stress-accent.  The  reason 
for  this  is  that  when  we  speak  rapidly  we  have  less  time 
for  making  the  complicated  nervous  and  muscular 
adjustments  that  are  necessary  to  the  production  of 
speech-sounds,  and  so  some  of  the  movements  are  incom- 
plete, inexact,  or  ill-timed;  we  are  more  likely  to  make 
mistakes  when  we  speak  rapidly.  Probably  this  applies 

'Van  Ginncken,  Principes  de  linguistique  psychologique,pp. 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  61 

in  varying  degrees  to  nearly  all  sorts  of  mispronuncia- 
tion; certainly  it  has  an  important  connection  with  the 
phenomena  of  assimilation  and  dissimilation,  as  one 
discovers  by  reciting  the  syllables  about  Peter  Piper  at 
varying  rates  of  speed. 

Rapidity  of  utterance  is  not  an  independent  cause  of 
sound-change,  but  only  a  re-enforcing  cause.  An 
increase  in  speed  is  related  to  sound-change  much  as  a 
reduction  of  vitality  is  related  to  disease:  both  reduce 
the  patient's  powers  of  resistance,  but  neither  can  induce 
a  particular  malady.  The  analogy  is  not  perfect,  how- 
ever; Meringer1  has  not  been  able  to  detect  a  greater 
liability  to  mispronunciation  in  speakers  of  rapid  utter- 
ance than  in  those  whose  rate  of  speech  is  slower.  No 
doubt  habitually  rapid  speech  goes  parallel  with  unusual 
speed  and  accuracy  in  making  nervous  and  muscular 
co-ordinations;  whether  the  habit  or  the  skill  is  the 
cause  of  the  other  is  a  question  for  a  psychologist  to 
answer. 

Ease  of  Articulation 

Many  of  the  changes  we  have  discussed  result  in 
an  easier  articulation;  it  is  easier  to  say  "cubrd"  than 
"cup-board,"  Polluces  than  Poldttces,  exemplaris  than 
*exemplalis,  semodius  than  *semimodius,  repperi  than 
*repeperi.  Many  sound-changes  also  among  those  that 
we  have  not  mentioned  simplify  articulation.  A  mon- 
ophthong requires  less  muscular  and  nervous  energy 
than  a  diphthong  (Latin  ae  became  e;  Greek  at  became  e) ; 
a  spirant  is  a  less  complicated  sound  than  an  aspirate 
(Indo-European  ph  became  Latin  /;  <£  was  pronounced 

1  Aiis  dem  Leben  der  Sprachc,  p.  122. 


62  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

ph,  as  in  "hap-hazard,"  in  ancient  Greek,  but  is  now 
pronounced  /) ;  the  loss  of  a  sound  saves  effort  unless 
the  resulting  combination  of  sounds  is  difficult  to  articu- 
late (Latin  v  was  lost  between  like  vowels,  Greek  F  was 
lost  in  all  positions  in  some  dialects).  It  seems  probable, 
then,  that  in  many  cases  the  greater  ease  with  which  a 
new  sound  is  produced  is  a  contributing  factor  in  its 
first  production. 

Such  a  tendency  is  not  always  present,  for  changes 
in  the  reverse  direction  are  not  uncommon.  Monoph- 
thongs sometimes  become  diphthongs,  as  in  English  a  and 
0  have  become  ay  and  ow  (for  example,  "pay,"  "grow"). 
In  the  first  Germanic  mutation  of  consonants  /  became 
th  (Latin  tennis,  English  "thin");  this  th  under  certain 
circumstances  became  d  (Latin  centum,  English  "hun- 
dred") ;  original  d,  however,  became  /  (Latin  duo,  English 
"two").  These  changes  did  not  all  take  place  at  the 
same  time,  and  they  were  more  complicated  than  this 
summary  statement  would  indicate;  but  the  fact  remains 
that  original  /  sometimes  became  English  d,  while 
original  d  regularly  became  English  t.  Not  all  of  the 
changes  concerned  can  possibly  be  due  to  a  tendency 
toward  ease  of  articulation. 

Indeed  we  cannot  often  say  that  any  simple  sound  is 
easier  than  another;  for  no  language  makes  common  use 
of  a  sound  which  seems  difficult  to  the  speakers  of  that 
language.  We  should  not  invoke  the  tendency  to  avoid 
effort  as  a  cause  of  any  sound-changes  except  those  which 
clearly  result  in  the  omission  or  simplification  of  muscular 
movement. 

In  one  case  this  tendency  seems  to  operate  quite 
regularly.  If  /  or  u  is  immediately  followed  by  a  dis- 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  63 

similar  vowel,  a  consonantal  glide  is  developed  between 
them  (unless  the  i  or  u  itself  becomes  consonantal  with 
loss  of  a  syllable).  Since  i  and  u  are  less  sonorous 
than  the  other  vowels,  the  speaker  can  produce  the 
decrease  of  intensity  which  marks  the  syllable  division 
between  i  and  a,  for  example,  only  by  a  considerable 
decrease  in  stress  at  the  close  of  the  i  -sound.  If  the 
sonorousness  of  the  i  is  decreased  at  the  same  time,  the 
change  in  stress  need  not  be  so  great;  but  when  i  becomes 
less  sonorous  the  result  is  y, 

Many  consonant  groups  involve  an  exact  co-ordination 
of  muscular  processes.  In  order  to  produce  the  group  si 
one  must  close  the  s-aperture  between  the  tip  of  the 
tongue  and  the  gum  and  at  the  same  moment  open  the 
/-apertures  between  the  sides  of  the  tongue  and  the  gum. 
If  the  former  adjustment  precedes,  the  result  is  a  com- 
plete closure  between  the  tongue  and  the  gum  in  the  /- 
position,  and  when  this  is  relaxed  by  the  opening  of  the 
/-apertures  we  hear  the  explosion  which  constitutes  the 
sound  of  t,  as  when  English  "scarcely"  is  pronounced 
"scarcetly."  Conversely,  the  group  stl  requires  that 
the  closure  of  the  s-aperture  shall  precede  the  opening 
of  the  /-apertures.  If  this  is  not  done,  the  /-explosion 
is  omitted,  as  when  "beastly"  is  pronounced  "beasly" 
(the  familiar  pronunciation  in  England).  Other  un- 
stable consonant  groups  are  seen  in  "stream"  from 
Indo-European  sreu,  "ches(t)nut,"  Latin  sum(p)si  and 
sum(p}tus.  In  such  cases  we  find  changes  in  both  di- 
rections ("scarcetly"  :  "beasly").  Other  consonant 
combinations  which  involve  exactly  timed  changes  of 
articulation  are  broken  up  by  the  development  of  a 
vowel,  as  when  English  "elm"  and  "Henry"  become 


64  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

"elum"  and  "Henery,"  or  early  Latin  periclum  and 
vehiclum  become  periculum  and  vehiculum. 

In  the  cases  mentioned  in  the  last  paragraph  the  only 
difficulty  is  that  of  making  a  movement  at  precisely  the 
right  moment.  That,  however,  is  not  really  a  difficult 
thing  to  do  when  once  it  has  become  habitual.  The 
development  or  loss  of  a  t  between  s  and  /  and  of  a  vowel 
between  /  and  m  does  not  really  result  in  greater  ease 
of  articulation  unless  those  combinations  are  uncommon 
in  the  language  concerned,  or  the  speaker  who  makes  the 
change  is  just  learning  the  language.  In  these  cases, 
then,  we  should  not  speak  of  a  tendency  toward  ease 
of  articulation,  but  of  a  tendency  to  eliminate  unfamiliar 
sounds  or  groups  of  sounds. 

Loan-words  are  peculiarly  subject  to  this  tendency; 
just  as  those  who  learn  a  foreign  language  tend  to  sub- 
stitute familiar  sounds  for  the  unfamiliar  foreign  sounds, 
so  the  borrowers  of  a  foreign  word  adapt  it  to  their  own 
phonetic  habits.  When  German  Walz  made  its  way  into 
English,  the  unfamiliar  initial  sound  of  the  German  was 
displaced  by  English  v  or  w,  the  latter  of  which  has  be- 
come usual  on  account  of  the  identity  of  the  written 
character  with  the  German  letter. 

Unfamiliar  combinations  arise  occasionally  in  the 
development  of  a  language,  and  then  are  eliminated; 
the  Greek  for  "seventh"  should  be  e/35/xos,  but  we  find 
e/35o/ios  in  some  dialects,  e/35c^os  in  others. 

The  tendency  to  avoid  unfamiliar  sounds  often 
combines  with  other  factors  in  producing  a  sound-change ; 
when  Latin  *is-pse  became  ipse  an  unfamiliar  combina- 
tion was  eliminated  by  dissimilation.  The  German 
name  Sclilcsingcr  is  often  pronounced  with  metathesis 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  65 

Sleshinger  in  America,  where  the  initial  combination  shl 
is  unfamiliar.  "Aeroplane"  becomes  "airioplane," 
chiefly  by  analogy  with  "air,"  partly  by  metathesis,  and 
partly  also  because  ae  is  an  unfamiliar  combination  in 
English. 

Spelling  and  Pronunciation 

In  cultivated  languages  spelling  frequently  leads  to  a 
change  in  pronunciation.  The  French  word  faute  was 
adopted  in  Middle  English  and  was  pronounced  nearly 
as  in  French  for  some  time.  At  length  some  school- 
master noticed  the  connection  with  Latin  fallo  and 
heralded  his  discovery  by  spelling  the  word  with  an  L 
Presently  some  other  pedant  pronounced  the  /  thus 
introduced,  and  now  we  all  follow  his  example.  The 
English  names  "Norwich"  and  "Greenwich"  (pro- 
nounced "Norij,"  "Grinij")  have  been  given  to  several 
American  towns,  but  here  they  are  usually  pronounced  as 
spelled.  Although  the  /  of  "often"  has  been  silent  in 
normal  speech  for  two  centuries,  many  persons,  misled 
by  the  spelling,  now  take  great  pains  to  pronounce  it. 

Custom  and  Pronunciation 

The  habits  and  ideals  of  different  human  groups 
differ  widely.  Laborers  of  some  races  habitually  sing 
at  their  work,  but  other  laborers  would  consider  such 
a  practice  the  height  of  folly.  In  some  communities  all 
decent  women  wear  rings  in  their  noses,  in  others  in  the 
lower  lips,  and  in  still  others  in  the  ears,  while  some 
communities  regard  a  ring  attached  to  any  part  of  the 
head  as  a  badge,  not  of  respectability,  but  of  the  reverse. 
In  one  land  it  is  proper  to  express  emotion  as  fully  as 


66  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

possible  by  gesture,  facial  expression,  and  tone  of  voice; 
but  in  another,  people  try  to  appear  as  if  they  had  no 
emotions  at  all. 

Many  linguistic  facts  must  be  connected  with  such 
social  habits.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  compara- 
tive lack  of  facial  expression  in  England  is  a  cause  of  the 
weak  articulation  of  the  labials  which  is  prevalent  there. 
Perhaps  the  loss  of  pitch-accent  in  many  highly  cultured 
languages  is  in  part  due  to  the  civilized  habit  of  hiding 
emotions.  A  rather  slovenly  fashion  of  closing  the 
mouth  before  one  has  quite  finished  what  he  is  saying 
yields  vulgar  English  "nope"  for  "no"  and  "yep"  for 
"  yea."  If  the  final  sound  is  s,  the  premature  closure  is  in 
the  /-position,  and  the  result  is  "acrosst,"  "sincet," 
"clost,"  "oncet,"  etc.  No  doubt  it  will  some  day  be 
possible  to  detect  other  and  clearer  cases  of  the  influence 
of  custom  upon  speech. 

Unknown  Factors 

No  doubt  there  are  other  causes  of  primary  change  of 
sound,  and  further  study  will  probably  bring  some  of 
them  to  light.  Something  is  to  be  hoped  for  from  further 
collections  of  momentary  lapses,  such  as  those  published 
by  Meringer,  and  something  also  from  the  laboratories 
of  phonetics  and  psychology. 

In  the  meantime  it  would  be  well  for  linguists  to  study 
such  changes  of  sound  as  recur  independently  in  different 
languages.  For  example,  z  becomes  r  in  West  and 
North  Germanic  (Gothic  maiza,  English  "more," 
German  nic/ir,  Swedish  mera),  in  Latin  and  Umbrian 
(Oscan  ezum,  Latin  cro,  Umbrian  crom),  in  certain 
Greek  dialects  (Eretrian  e'xouptp,  Mtp7os),  in  Sanskrit 


PRIMARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  67 

(sarvais  tantraih  :  sarvair  gunaih}.  If  all  similar  phe- 
nomena from  other  known  languages  were  compared 
with  these,  the  reason  for  the  tendency  might  appear. 
At  present  we  can  merely  say  that  2  and  some  types  of  r 
are  produced  by  similar  articulations  and  that  some 
types  of  r  require  less  expenditure  of  breath  than  is 
needed  to  produce  2. 


CHAPTER  III 
SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  spread  of  new  forms 
over  a  greater  or  a  smaller  territory.  Many  innovations 
do  not  spread  at  all  or  even  establish  themselves  at  the 
spot  where  they  originate.  Some  of  them  are  detected 
by  the  speaker  and  corrected  at  once;  others,  which 
escape  his  notice,  the  hearer  detects  and  mentally 
brands  as  mistakes.  A  great  many  phonetic  changes 
do,  however,  gain  currency,  and  this  in  two  very  different 
ways.  Some  changes  establish  themselves  in  hundreds 
of  words,  while  others,  such  as  that  of  Latin  *nutritrix 
to  nutrix,  are  confined  to  a  single  word. 

Changes  Affecting  Several  Words 

Changes  of  sound  which  are  common  to  several 
words  are  among  the  most  frequent  linguistic  changes, 
and  they  differ  from  all  the  others  in  that  they  are 
usually  regular  in  their  operation.  Unless  they  are 
hindered  by  some  opposing  tendency,  they  usually 
apply,  not  to  a  few  words,  but  to  all  those  in  which  the 
sound  occurs  in  similar  surroundings. 

Anglo-Saxon  d~d  has  become  "oath,"  and  with 
almost  perfect  regularity  Anglo-Saxon  accented  a  in 
other  words  also  has  become  o  (or,  more  accurately  6w; 
see  above,  page  18).  We  have  "own"  from  dgan, 
"bone"  from  ban,  "goat"  from  gat,  "comb"  from 
cdmb,  "foam"  from  fam,  "whole"  from  hdl,  "home" 

68 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  69 

from  Mm,  "moan"  from  man,  "sow"  from  sawan, 
"token"  from  tacen,  etc.  These  and  many  parallel 
instances  are  summarized  in  the  formula:  Anglo- 
Saxon  accented  a  became  Modern  English  6  (or  rather, 
ow).  Such  a  formula  is  called  a  phonetic  law.  There 
is  another  phonetic  law  to  the  effect  that  Indo-European 
d  became  Germanic  t.  It  is  based  upon  correspond- 
ences between  the  related  idioms  and  the  Germanic 
languages,  such  as  these  between  the  classical  lan- 
guages and  English: 

decent:"  ten"  8epo>:"tear" 

duo:  "two"  dens -."tooth" 

dicere: "  teach  "  cordem :  "heart " 

domare:"ta.me"  sedere:"sit" 

The  phonetic  law  that  in  Latin  s  between  vowels  became 
r  (through  the  intermediate  stage  of  z)  is  a  formulaic 
statement  of  many  such  relationships  as  these: 

genus :  generis  gestus :  gero 

dis-tineo :  dir-imo  nefas :  nefarius 

Roman  grammarians  record  early  Latin  meliosem, 
foedesum,  and  lases  for  classical  meliorem,  foederum, 
and  lares.  We  might  multiply  indefinitely  examples 
of  each  of  these  phonetic  laws. 

We  must  carefully  note,  however,  that  phonetic 
laws  operate  only  under  certain  conditions,  or  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  trace  their  regularity.  Although,  as  we 
have  seen,  Latin  d  if  originally  unaccented  became  I, 
many  words  show  e  from  d.  Contrast  the  second  and 
fourth  columns  below. 


70  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

facio :  inficio  foetus :  infectus 

capio :  incipio  captus :  inceptus 

rapio :  deripio  raplus :  dereptus 

ago :adigo  parlo:reperio 

habeo :  inhibeo  partus :  repertus 

datus:red-ditus  sacro:consecro 

The  confusion  disappears  as  soon  as  we  recognize  the 
fact  that  the  phonetic  law  in  question  operated  only 
before  a  single  consonant  other  than  r,1  while  before 
double  consonants  and  r  unaccented  d  became  e.  To 
put  the  matter  in  terms  of  historical  development, 
unaccented  a  became  e,  and  then  unaccented  e  before 
single  consonants  except  r  became  I.  Similarly,  Anglo- 
Saxon  a  changed  to  Modern  English  5  only  when 
accented;  the  regular  development  of  Anglo-Saxon 
unaccented  a  is  seen  in  "abide"  from  dbidan,  "arise"' 
from  drisan.  Again,  Latin  5  became  r  only  between 
vowels.  We  have  noticed  5  in  genus,  distineo,  gestus, 
and  ncfas;  it  occurs  in  a  host  of  other  words  besides. 

Phonetic  laws  operate  regularly  wherever  they 
operate  at  all,  but  they  do  not  necessarily  operate  over 
the  entire  territory  of  a  language.  In  the  greater  part 
of  the  United  States  r  before  a  consonant  is  retained 
in  such  words  as  "cart,"  "hard,"  "barn";  but  in  the 
South,  in  a  large  part  of  New  England,  and  in  the  city 
of  New  York  r  in  this  position  is  lost  with  lengthening 
of  the  preceding  vowel.  In  most  Greek  dialects  original 
long  a  remained,  so  that  tirst-declension  nouns  ended  in 
that  vowel  as  they  do  in  Latin  (iro'iva).  In  Attic  and 
Ionic,  however,  this  sound  became  77,  and  so  we  have 

1  This  is  not  a  complete  statement  of  the  facts;  but  further  details 
are  not  necessary  to  our  point. 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  71 

first-declension  nouns  like  Troivr}.  In  Attic  alone  another 
phonetic  law  gives  a  after  e,  t,  and  p,  so  that  we  find 
xcopa  contrasting  with  Ionic  x^P'n- 

Sometimes  a  phonetic  law  is  confined  to  a  particular 
class.  In  Southern  England  the  lower  classes  have  lost 
the  sound  h,  but  it  is  carefully  retained  by  educated 
people.  In  New  York  City,  before  the  New  England 
loss  of  r  before  a  consonant  was  introduced,1  a  part  of  the 
words  concerned  had  suffered  a  different  change  in  the 
language  of  the  lower  classes;  the  syllabic  r  of  "bird," 
"third,"  "first,"  "hurt,"  "worm,"  etc.,  had  developed 
into  a  diphthong  whose  first  element  is  an  abnormal 
vowel  (see  above,  page  20)  similar  to  German  d  or 
French  eu  and  whose  second  element  is  i.  One  can 
easily  distinguish  the  native  from  the  imported  delivery 
boys  and  street-car  conductors  by  the  presence  or 
absence  of  such  pronunciations  as  "boid,"  "thb'id," 
"foist,"  "hoid,"  "woim."  Other  local  and  class 
phonetic  laws  are  illustrated  by  the  western  pronun- 
ciation "Americy,"  "Sary,"  "Nevady,"  etc.,  and  by 
Cockney  "lidy"  ("laide")  for  "lady,"  and  "roud" 
("raud")  for  "road." 

A  phonetic  law  continues  in  force  only  for  a  limited 
time,  and  after  it  has  once  ceased  to  operate  a  sound 
fulfilling  all  the  conditions  for  the  change  may  come  to 
exist  in  the  language  and  remain  unchanged.  If  Latin 
causa  had  had  that  form  at  the  time  when  s  between 
vowels  was  being  changed  to  r,  the  classical  word  would 

1  My  efforts  to  gather  evidence  on  the  history  of  r  before  a  consonant 
in  New  York  City  have  not  been  successful.  I  know,  however,  that  r 
in  that  position  was  still  pronounced  in  southwestern  Connecticut 
fifty  years  ago.  The  change  of  r  to  oi  must  have  antedated  the  loss 
of  r.  See  also  p.  77. 


72  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

have  been  caura;  but  until  the  time  of  Augustus  the 
word  was  caussa.  So  also  caesus,  rusus,  misi,fusus,  and 
others  were  pronounced  with  ss  in  the  early  period; 
when  at  last  ss  became  s  in  these  words  the  phonetic 
law  had  ceased  to  operate,  and  5  between  vowels  per- 
sisted. Anglo-Saxon  sc  has  become  sh  in  "shin," 
"shirt,"  "shrew,"  "shriek,"  etc.;  but  nevertheless  sc 
(often  spelled  sk)  is  by  no  means  uncommon  in  Modern 
English.  In  fact  we  have  numerous  by-forms  in  sk  of 
words  in  sh;  beside  "ship"  we  have  "skiff";  "shirt" 
and  "skirt"  are  historically  the  same  word;  and  so 
are  "shriek"  and  "screech";  "shrew"  and  "screw" 
(a  skittish  horse).  The  sk  forms  were  borrowed  from 
other  languages  (chiefly  Danish)  after  the  change  of 
genuine  English  sc  to  sh. 

Borrowed  words,  even  when  they  do  not  have  a  form 
that  has  previously  existed  in  the  borrowing  language, 
often  produce  apparent  exceptions  to  a  phonetic  law. 
In  Modern  English,  beside  "whole"  from  Anglo-Saxon 
hal,  we  have  also  the  form  "hale,"  which  does  not  go 
back  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  word,  but  to  Danish  lied;  this 
is  cognate,  to  be  sure,  with  the  genuine  English  word, 
but  it  acquired  its  peculiar  form  during  its  history  as  a 
Danish  word.  The  genuine  Latin  word  corresponding 
to  English  "red,"  Greek  epvdpos,  Sanskrit  rudhirds,  is 
ruber;  Latin  rufus  is  borrowed  from  another  of  the 
Italic  languages  in  which  Indo-European  dh  in  the 
middle  of  a  word  became/. 

It  was  the  discovery  of  the  regularity  of  the  phonetic 
laws  that  made  possible  the  science  of  comparative 
philology.  As  long  as  scholars  thought,  for  example, 
that  original  dh  in  the  middle  of  a  word  might  appear 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  73 

in  Latin  as  b  or/  indifferently  there  was  no  way  of  show- 
ing that  ruber  is  the  native  Latin  word  and  that  rufus 
is  a  loan-word;  both  might  be  genuine  developments 
of  the  same  original  stem.  Furthermore,  the  fact  that 
dh  initial  appeared  as  /  in  Latin  fumus  (Greek  dv/j,a)  and 
in  many  other  words  did  not  prevent  the  connection  of 
deus  and  deos  on  the  assumption  of  an  original  initial  dh. 
The  equation  of  English  "deer"  with  Greek  dyp  and 
Latin  ferus  on  the  basis  of  assumed  Indo-European  dh 
was  for  a  long  time  a  favorite  etymology,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  Aeolic  Greek  has  $rip  instead  of  6r)p.  Indeed, 
it  was  possible  to  connect  any  two  words  of  any  two 
languages  by  merely  assuming  a  sufficient  number  of 
sound-changes.  Voltaire's  sneering  description  of  ety- 
mology as  the  science  in  which  the  consonants  count 
for  little  and  the  vowels  for  nothing  continued  to  be 
deserved  for  many  years  after  the  death  of  its  author. 
For  some  time  after  scholars  began  to  speak  of  "phonetic 
laws,"  they  grouped  under  them  only  a  part  of  the 
material  and  then  added  a  chapter  on  "sporadic  change," 
in  which  they  discussed  what  they  thought  to  be  excep- 
tions to  the  phonetic  laws.  Sometimes  they  set  up  two 
contradictory  phonetic  laws,  either  of  which  might 
operate,  it  was  supposed,  in  any  given  case. 

As  linguistic  knowledge  broadened  and  deepened, 
scholars  came  gradually  to  recognize  the  prevailing 
regularity  of  phonetic  change,  and  to  feel  more  and  more 
skepticism  in  regard  to  "sporadic  change."  The 
climax  of  thirty  years  of  increasing  strictness  in  the 
treatment  of  sound-changes  came  in  1876,  when  Leskien, 
in  an  essay  entitled  Die  Deklination  im  Slavisch- 
Litauischen  und  Gennanischeu,  advanced  the  theory 


74  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

that  phonetic  laws  have  no  exceptions,  except  those 
which  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  intervention  of  other 
phonetic  laws  or  by  some  analogical  influence.  The 
matter  was  vigorously  debated  for  many  years,  and  the 
outcome  of  the  discussion,  for  the  present  at  least,  is  a 
compromise.  Few  scholars  now  deny  the  possibility 
of  exceptions  to  the  phonetic  laws,  but  in  practice  all 
reputable  linguists  assume  that  these  laws  are  regular, 
and  all  refrain  from  advancing  etymologies  which 
violate  them. 

Although  phonetic  laws  are  usually  regular  in  their 
operation,  it  is  not  hard  to  find  cases  where  they  are 
more  or  less  vacillating.  English  ob  has  been  shortened 
to  ob  in  "book"  and  "good."  Many  speakers  in  various 
parts  of  the  English-speaking  world  habitually  shorten 
the  sound  in  certain  other  words,  such  as  "room," 
"cooper,"  "roof,"  "proof,"  "spoon,"  "food,"  "soot," 
and  "root."  In  a  third  group  of  words  00  is  never 
shortened,  for  example,  "fool,"  "moon,"  "Susan," 
"shoe."  There  is  inconsistency  in  standard  English 
between  the  first  group  and  the  other  two,  while  with 
regard  to  the  treatment  of  words  of  the  second  group 
one  can  find  all  imaginable  differences  between  speakers. 
In  the  dialect  of  New  England  o  is  changed  to  the  u  of 
"but''  in  certain  words.  The  shortened  form  is  very 
common  in  "stun"  for  "stone"  and  the  phrase  "to 
hum"  for  "at  home,"  and  it  is  heard  in  many  other  words 
also,  but  in  different  words  in  different  localities.  Latin 
mn  is  treated  in  no  less  than  four  different  ways.  In 
fcmina,  nominalis,  and  guminasium  for  Greek  yvfjivavLov, 
an  epenthetic  vowel  appears.  In  most  words  the  group 
remains  unchanged  in  standard  Latin.  In  the  language 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  75 

of  the  streets  mn  is  sometimes  assimilated  to  nn,  as  in 
alonnus  for  alumnus  and  lanna  for  lamna,  while  some- 
times p  is  developed  between  the  two  nasals,  as  in 
dampnum  for  damnum,  calumpnia  for  calumnia,  solempnis 
for  solemnis. 

Writers  on  scientific  grammar  try  to  explain  away 
such  irregularities  by  assigning  the  various  sounds  to 
different  class  or  local  dialects,  by  making  them  represent 
different  chronological  stages  of  a  continuous  develop- 
ment, or  by  pointing  out  the  phonetic  surroundings 
under  which  each  one  appears.  Such  procedure  is 
entirely  proper,  and  it  has  reduced  numerous  apparent 
irregularities  to  order.  There  remain,  however,  many 
cases  which  cannot  be  explained  away. 

We  have  record  of  temporary  vacillation  between 
rival  pronunciations  followed  by  the  complete  victory 
of  one  of  them.  In  Shakespeare's  time  "war"  rhymed 
with  "far,"  "warm"  with  "harm,"  "wanting"  with 
"granting."  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  modern 
pronunciation  of  such  words  was  the  common  one,  but 
many  people  kept  the  old  sound  ah  (Continental  a)  in 
certain  words,  as  "wart,"  "dwarf,"  "wabble,"  "wad," 
"wallop."  For  the  last  hundred  years  or  so  the  standard 
English  pronunciation  has  consistently  employed  the 
sound-group  waw  for  earlier  wah;  whereas  the  change 
was  irregular  in  the  eighteenth  century,  it  was  regular 
in  the  nineteenth.  In  American  English  the  irregularity 
still  persists;  most  of  us  say  ah  in  the  words  "wabble," 
"wad,"  and  "wallop";  many  of  us,  in  "wash";  and 
some  of  us,  in  "water."  Probably  American  English 
will  eventually  work  its  way  to  uniformity,  as  the 
English  of  the  mother-country  has  already  done. 


76  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Sometimes  a  period  of  vacillation  is  followed  by  the 
victory  of  the  original  sound.  In  Latin  there  was  at 
one  time  a  tendency  to  lengthen  short  vowels  before  gn. 
It  seems  certain  that  people  said  dignus,  signum,  ignis, 
as  well  as  dtgnus,  stgnum,  ignis,  although  for  some  words, 
such  as  magnus,  there  is  no  evidence  of  a  lengthened 
pronunciation.  But  even  for  the  words  first  mentioned 
the  inherited  forms  of  the  Romance  languages  and  the 
borrowed  forms  of  the  Germanic  and  Celtic  languages 
show  that  the  pronunciation  with  a  short  vowel  finally 
prevailed.  In  this  case  the  net  result  of  the  incipient 
change  was  to  leave  things  as  they  were  at  first. 

Sound-changes  sometimes  start  in  a  particular  part 
of  a  linguistic  community  and  gradually  spread,  as 
waves  radiate  from  a  pebble  dropped  into  a  body  of 
water.  Sound-changes,  however,  need  not  spread  in 
concentric  circles;  they  may  move  rapidly  in  some 
directions,  slowly  in  others,  and  not  at  all  in  still 
others. 

A  change  of  this  sort  which  has  been  much  studied 
is  the  so-called  second  or  High  German  mutation  of 
consonants,  which  caused  the  difference  between  the 
consonants  of  such  English  and  German  words  as  "two" 
and  zwei,  "foot"'  and  Fuss,  "sheep"  and  Schaf,  "daugh- 
ter" and  Tochtcr,  "brother "  and  Bruder.  These  changes 
began  about  600  A.D.  in  South  Germany  and  spread 
gradually  northward.  As  the  tendency  to  shift  the 
mutes  moved  farther  from  the  starting-point,  it  became 
weaker  and  affected  fewer  sounds.  The  northern 
districts  were  almost  untouched  by  it.  Most  remark- 
able of  all,  the  change  spread  across  dialect  borders 
without  interruption,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  77 

Prankish  dialect  was  only  partially  covered;  thence- 
forth we  have  High  Prankish,  which  took  part  in  the 
change,  and  Low  Prankish,  which  did  not. 

Another  gradually  spreading  sound-change  may  be 
observed  in  the  neighborhood  of  New  York  City  just 
now.  In  a  large  part  of  New  England  r  before  a  con- 
sonant is  mute  in  such  words  as  "cart,"  "hard,"  "first," 
"horde,"  and  this  pronunciation  is  gradually  spreading 
to  the  southwest.  Fifty  years  ago,  I  have  been  informed, 
it  had  not  reached  Greenwich,  Connecticut.  At  present 
the  boundary  follows  the  New  England  line  nearly  to 
the  coast,  then  it  swerves  westward  to  the  Hudson,  and 
presently  moves  westward  again  to  include  several  of 
the  Jersey  suburbs.  Along  the  Jersey  shore  directly 
opposite  the  city  the  natives  as  well  as  the  commuters 
pronounce  in  this  respect  precisely  as  the  city  people 
do.  A  little  farther  back,  in  Hackensack  and  Newark, 
both  pronunciations  may  be  heard;  the  boundary  runs 
through  these  towns  and  the  change  has  not  worked 
out  to  uniformity  there.  There  is  little  doubt  that  soon 
the  whole  district  tributary  to  New  York  City  will 
pronounce  "caht,"  etc. 

The  most  remarkable  and  most  important  sound- 
changes  are  those  which  are  regular  in  their  operation. 
For  many  years  students  of  language  have  devoted  much 
time  to  discovering,  describing,  and  tabulating  phonetic 
laws;  no  other  group  of  linguistic  phenomena  has  been 
more  extensively  or  more  profitably  studied.  Many 
attempts  have  been  made  to  account  for  their  regularity, 
and  some  factors  in  the  problem  have  been  recognized; 
but  there  is  not  today  any  generally  accepted  theory 
of  sound-change.  We  shall  consider  two  ways  in  which 


78  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

regular  changes  of  form  occur.  It  is  very  probable  that 
these  two  factors  sometimes  co-operate,  and  there  may 
be  other  factors  in  the  problem. 

Many  sound-changes,  as  we  have  seen,  do  not 
originate  in  a  sudden  and  violent  change,  such  as  might 
be  inferred  from  our  formulation  of  the  phonetic  laws. 
Our  grammars  say  that  Latin  unaccented  a  before  a 
single  consonant  became  i.  But  in  reality  we  know  that 
a  was  not  changed  directly  into  i;  there  was  certainly 
an  intermediate  stage  e,  and  probably  there  were  many 
other  intermediate  stages.  The  weakening  of  unac- 
cented a  was  induced  by  the  strong  stress-accent  of 
early  Latin,  an  influence  which  must  constantly  have 
aflected  all  speakers.  Every  time  anyone  pronounced 
a  word  like  *refacio  he  tended  to  make  the  second  vowel 
a  little  closer  and  less  sonorous  than  before;  the  change, 
however,  was  very  slight  in  each  case  and  therefore 
did  not  attract  attention  or  provoke  correction.  Never- 
theless each  new  stage  on  the  road  from  a  to  i  must 
have  served  as  a  point  of  departure  for  another  change 
in  the  same  direction. 

A  sound-change  may  be  made  regular  in  this  way, 
whenever  one  of  the  causes  of  primary  change  of  sound 
operates  upon  all  the  speakers  of  a  community,  provided 
the  change  in  question  is  capable  of  proceeding  by 
imperceptible  stages.  A  change  of  social  customs,  such 
as  an  increase  in  the  size  of  ornamental  rings  worn  in  the 
upper  lip,  or  a  fashion  of  splitting  the  upper  lip,  or  a 
habit  of  keeping  the  lips  closed  as  much  as  possible, 
would  certainly  produce  regular  changes  in  some  of  the 
speech-sounds.  If  a  whole  community  adopts  a  new 
language,  there  is  a  consistent  tendency  to  modify  the 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  79 

sounds  of  the  new  language  in  the  direction  of  the  familiar 
sounds  of  the  old. 

But  there  are  many  phonetic  laws  whose  regularity 
cannot  be  thus  explained.  Some  changes  cannot  take 
place  by  imperceptible  stages;  for  example,  the  change 
of  qu  to  p  in  several  languages  (Oscan  pod  is  from  quod} , 
or  the  change  of  tl  to  cl  in  Latin  (pdc[u]lum  is  from 
*potlom).  Even  some  changes  which  might  take  place 
by  imperceptible  stages  are  nevertheless  observed  to 
involve  at  certain  times  an  easily  perceptible  variation 
between  words  or  between  speakers;  for  example,  the 
eighteenth-century  inconsistency  between  "warm" 
rhyming  with  "form"  and  "wart"  rhyming  with 
"part,"  and  the  present  inconsistency  in  the  pronuncia- 
tion of  "room,"  etc.  Even  in  case  we  cannot  disprove 
that  a  change  took  place  by  slow  degrees,  we  are  usually 
unable  to  point  out  any  persistent  cause  of  the  tendency 
to  change  in  the  given  direction.  It  is  probable  that 
we  should  assign  an  important  role  to  the  second  method 
by  which  changes  of  form  are  known  to  become  regular. 

In  the  dialect  of  Missouri  and  the  neighboring 
states,  final  a  in  such  words  as  "America,"  "Arizona," 
"Nevada,"  becomes  y — "Americy,"  "Arizony,"  "Ne- 
vady."  All  educated  people  in  that  region  carefully 
correct  this  vulgarism  out  of  their  speech;  and  many 
of  them  carry  the  correction  too  far  and  say  "Missoura," 
"praira,"  etc.  That  plain  soldier,  the  emperor  Ves- 
pasian, had  the  vulgar  habit  of  saying  6  for  au,  and, 
says  Suetonius,  a  courtier  named  Florus  once  cautioned 
him  to  say  plaustra  instead  of  plostra;  next  morning  the 
imperial  pupil  greeted  his  instructor  as  "Flaurus." 
Suetonius  records  this  as  one  of  Vespasian's  jests;  but 


8o  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

many  Romans  changed  6  to  au  in  the  mere  effort  to 
speak  correctly,  as  in  scauria  for  Greek  cmopia  in  an 
inscription.  Such  over-corrections  are  common  in  all 
languages.1  For  the  native  of  Missouri  the  attempt  to 
say  "America,"  "Arizona,"  and  "Nevada"  is  an  attempt 
to  substitute  for  his  native  y  the  more  elegant  sound  a. 
The  feeling  inevitably  arises  that  final  y  is  wrong  and 
should  be  changed  to  a;  this  feeling  has  actually  led 
to  the  pronunciations  "Missoura"  and  "praira,"  and  it 
might  easily  lead  to  the  conversion  of  every  final  y  to  a. 
Such  a  spread  of  a  sound-change  from  word  to  word 
closely  resembles  analogical  change;  the  chief  difference 
is  that  in  analogical  change  the  association  groups  are 
based  upon  meaning,  while  in  this  case  the  groups 
are  based  upon  form.  We  may  illustrate  with  the 
change  of  initial  en-  to  in-  in  Latin.  For  reasons  which 
we  need  not  now  consider,  e  before  the  velar  nasal 
(English  ng)  became  i,  and  consequently  words  and 
phrases  containing  the  preposition  *en  (cognate  with 
Greek  iv}  or  the  negative  prefix  *cn  (cognate  with 
Greek  a  privative)  before  a  velar  consonant  changed 
the  initial  vowel  to  1;  *cndaudo  became  includo  and 
*encoctus  became  incoctus.  By  analogy  the  preposition 
and  the  negative  prefix  became  in,  even  when  other 
sounds  followed,  and  so  we  have  infcro,  inco,  inutilis, 
in  arcc,  etc.2  The  preposition  *en  was  closely  associated 

1  Cf.  Wheeler,  Transactions  of  the  American  Philological  Asso- 
ciation, XXXII,  5-15. 

3  It  is  possible  that  in  the  case  of  the  preposition,  weakening  in  unac- 
cented syllables  may  have  contributed  a  few  forms  with  I;  but  one  should 
remember  that  in  prehistoric  Latin  a  compound  like  inicio  and  prob- 
ably a  phrase  like  in  arcc  had  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable.  It  is  also 
possible  that  assimilation  to  a  following  i  mav  have  contributed  some 
forms  like  inicio. 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  81 

with  the  compound  preposition  endo  (cognate  with 
English  "into"),  which  had  the  same  meaning,  and  it 
was  also  associated  with  the  prepositions  Center  and 
*enfra;  analogy  changed  these  to  indu,  inter,  and  infra. 
Now  this  extensive  change  of  initial  en-  to  in-  might  have 
induced  a  feeling  that  every  initial  en-  should  be  made 
in-]  the  change  might  have  extended  from  the  asso- 
ciation group  consisting  of  the  words  en  and  words  of 
similar  form  and  meaning  to  the  partly  identical  asso- 
ciation group  consisting  of  words  with  initial  en-.  That 
this  spread  did  not  actually  occur  is  shown  by  enim 
and  ensis  (which  had  short  e  at  the  time  we  are  dis- 
cussing), the  only  Latin  words  with  initial  en-  which 
were  not  on  the  basis  of  meaning  associated  with  either 
the  preposition  or  the  negative  prefix. 

The  prerequisite  for  any  such  spread  of  a  change 
from  word  to  word  is  that  some  speakers  shall  feel  that 
one  sound  should  be  substituted  for  another.  One 
may  get  such  a  feeling  in  various  ways.  The  people 
of  Missouri  get  it  when  they  try  to  substitute  standard 
English  for  their  native  dialect,  and  Vespasian  got  it 
when  his  courtiers  instructed  him  in  standard  Latin 
pronunciation.  In  both  cases  there  is  a  change  of 
models — a  standard  language  is  substituted  for  a  local 
or  class  dialect.  In  other  words,  dialect-mixture  may 
lead  to  the  generalizing  of  a  sound-change. 

The  same  result  may  arise  from  a  change  in  the 
model  itself.  If  I  admire  the  speech  of  my  employer,  or 
superior  officer,  or  elder  brother,  I  am  likely  to  imitate 
and  extend  any  phonetic  innovation  that  occurs  in  his 
speech,  and  those  who  imitate  my  speech  are  likely 
to  carry  the  process  still  farther.  No  records  have  ever 


82  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

been  kept  of  these  first  beginnings  of  regular  changes 
of  sound,  and  so  it  is  not  possible  to  refer  phonetic  laws 
to  their  origins.  We  know  that  English  wah  has  changed 
to  waw,  and  we  can  give  approximate  dates  for 
some  stages  of  the  process;  but  we  do  not  know  when 
or  where  or  in  whose  pronunciation  the  first  impulse 
toward  the  change  occurred. 

We  have  seen  that  many  sound-changes  are  irregular 
when  they  first  appear  and  gradually  become  more  and 
more  regular.  The  reason  is  that  each  person  who 
substitutes  the  new  sound  for  the  old  in  his  own  pro- 
nunciation tends  to  carry  it  into  new  words.  The  two 
processes  of  spread  from  word  to  word  and  spread  from 
speaker  to  speaker  progress  side  by  side  until  the  new 
sound  has  extended  to  all  the  words  of  the  language 
which  contained  the  old  sound  in  the  same  surroundings. 

Isolated  Changes 

Many  changes  of  form,  however,  spread  over  a 
language  without  spreading  to  any  other  words  than  the 
ones  in  which  they  originate.  In  some  cases  there  is 
no  other  word  with  a  similar  combination  of  sounds; 
Latin  nutrix  from  *nutritrix  could  not  influence  other 
words  with  the  sound-group  tritr  because  there  were 
none.  But  the  spread  from  word  to  word  does  not 
always  occur  when  it  would  be  possible.  Two  chief 
causes  for  the  isolation  of  a  change  of  form  may  be 
mentioned. 

Probably  a  change  will  not  spread  from  a  single  word 
to  other  words  on  the  basis  of  formal  association  alone. 
The  past  participle  of  Latin  morior  ought  to  be  *mortus, 
but  the  analogy  of  vivus  has  changed  it  into  mortuus; 


SECONDARY  CHANGE  OF  FORM  83 

there  surely  never  resulted  from  this  change  a  tendency 
to  change  tiotu.  The  change  of  h  to/  in  English  " four  " 
could  not  by  itself  cause  a  regular  change  of  initial  h  to/. 
We  are  here  forced  to  argue  a  priori,  since  objective 
data  are  almost  wholly  lacking  for  the  reason  stated  on 
page  8 1 ;  but  it  seems  safe  to  say  that  the  likelihood  that 
a  sound-change  will  become  regular  varies  directly  as  the 
number  and  the  frequency  of  the  words  which  induce  it. 

A  second  cause  for  the  isolation  of  a  sound-change 
is  an  association  of  the  change  in  question  with  a  particu- 
lar meaning.  The  reason  why  Latin  enim  did  not  be- 
come inim  was  that  the  change  of  initial  en-  to  in-  was 
felt  to  belong  to  the  meanings  "in-"  and  "un-."  Anal- 
ogy has  appended  an  5  to  numerous  English  genitives 
and  plurals  which  formerly  did  not  have  that  termina- 
tion; but  the  connection  of  the  ending  with  the  two 
meanings  has  been  so  close  that  there  has  not  been  the 
slightest  tendency  for  this  s  to  spread  beyond  the  two 
categories. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  just  how  strong  the  association 
of  a  sound-change  with  a  meaning  must  be  in  order  to 
hinder  its  spread  beyond  the  semantic  group.  Appar- 
ently the  pronunciation  "Missoura"  is  favored  by 
association  with  other  geographical  names,  such  as 
"America,"  "Arizona,"  and  "Nevada";  but  the  asso- 
ciation is  not  strong  enough  to  prevent  the  common 
noun  "prairie"  from  becoming  "praira." 

Superficially  there  is  a  sharp  contrast  between  regu- 
lar and  irregular  change  of  form,  and  for  the  historian 
of  language  it  is  a  distinction  that  must  be  carefully 
observed.  Many  scholars  have  supposed  that  the  two 
were  fundamentally  different.  It  has  been  thought  that 


84  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

the  phonetic  laws  belonged  solely  to  the  physical  or 
physiological  side  of  language  and  that  their  regularity 
was  as  relentless  as  the  law  of  gravitation — and  for 
similar  reasons — while  irregular  changes  were  psycho- 
logical in  their  nature  and  were  incalculable  in  their 
effects,  because  the  mind  of  man  is  a  free  agent. 

We  have  seen,  however,  that  both  kinds  of  sound- 
change  are  at  once  physiological  and  psychological. 
Indeed,  the  psychological  factor  of  association  is  largely 
responsible  for  the  regularity  of  many  of  the  phonetic 
laws;  many  irregular  changes  of  sound  ultimately 
become  regular  by  the  operation  of  psychological  causes. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  seen  that  psychological 
causes  may  hinder  a  change  from  spreading  to  all  words 
which  contain  a  given  sound. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CHANGE  OF  MEANING 

Semantic  Change  Erratic 

While  the  regular  operation  of  the  phonetic  laws 
makes  it  possible  to  recognize  a  connection  between 
widely  different  forms  in  various  related  languages, 
there  is  no  similar  clue  to  help  us  trace  the  changes  which 
have  affected  the  meanings  of  words.  No  scholar  can 
doubt  the  etymological  identity  of  Old  Irish  athir  and 
Sanskrit  pita,  although  they  have  not  a  single  sound  in 
common;  for  all  the  differences  accord  with  recognized 
phonetic  laws.  As  wide  a  divergence  in  meaning  can 
be  traced  only  in  case  we  have  historic  records  of  inter- 
mediate stages.  One  might  well  doubt  the  relationship 
of  English  "write"  with  Dutch  rijten  and  German 
reissen  "tear,  split,"  if  it  were  not  for  such  intermediate 
stages  as  Old  Saxon  wrltan  "cut"  and  also  "write" 
and  Icelandic  rita  "scratch,  write."  No  one  knows 
whether  Latin  ruo  "fall"  and  ruo  "rush"  are  related  to 
each  other  or  not,  for  we  have  no  record  of  earlier  stages 
of  the  Latin  language  which  might  show  either  greater 
similarity  between  their  meanings  or  greater  divergence. 

Nevertheless  we  may  study  many  changes  of  meaning 
which  have  taken  place  within  the  historic  period,  and 
sometimes  we  can  reconstruct  a  change  which  occurred 
in  prehistoric  times.  The  branch  of  linguistic  science 
which  treats  of  the  meaning  of  words  is  called 
semasiology,  or  semantics,  and  change  in  meaning  is 
called  semantic  change. 

85 


86  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Types  of  Semantic  Change — Shift  of  Emphasis 

Everyone  who  has  used  a  dictionary  knows  that  most 
words  have  several  meanings ;  but  the  variation  is  really 
more  extensive  than  a  dictionary  could  indicate.  The 
word  "horse"  in  its  literal  meaning  suggests  a  very  large 
number  of  sensations  and  experiences,  for  each  man's 
idea  of  a  horse  is  a  sort  of  composite  photograph  of  the 
horses  he  has  known  of.  But  the  photograph  differs 
with  every  person  who  uses  the  word;  for  no  two  people 
have  seen  precisely  the  same  horses.  The  farmer  will 
see  a  plow  horse;  the  drayman  will  see  a  heavy  animal 
with  hairy  fetlock;  the  jockey  will  see  a  slender-legged, 
nervous  thoroughbred.  Then  again,  the  word  will 
convey  a  different  meaning  according  to  when  and  where 
it  is  used.  In  a  zoological  lecture  a  horse  is  an  animal 
of  a  certain  genus  and  species  with  a  particular  physio- 
logical structure.  On  a  farm  a  horse  is  the  beast  that 
draws  the  plow,  or  it  may  be  an  animal  that  must  be 
fed  three  times  a  day.  At  the  blacksmith's  a  horse  is  an 
animal  with  four  hoofs  to  be  shod.  In  a  treatise  on  meat 
supply  in  war-time,  a  horse  is  an  animal  whose  flesh 
may  be  used  instead  of  beef.  In  each  case  one  side  of 
the  idea  is  emphasized  at  the  expense  of  the  others,  and 
so  the  word  has  a  different  meaning.  The  hearer 
learns  what  meaning  is  intended,  partly  from  the  situa- 
tion under  which  the  word  is  spoken,  and  partly  from 
the  rest  of  the  sentence  and  the  surrounding  sentences. 
Often  a  very  little  of  the  context  is  enough;  note  the 
varying  meaning  of  "goes"  in  "the  train  goes,"  "the 
mill  goes,"  "the  money  goes." 

The  emphasis  on  one  element  of  a  complex  idea  may 
be  so  strong  that  the  other  elements  are  forgotten. 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  87 

Latin  vendito  means  "offer  for  sale,  try  to  sell,"  often 
by  praising  one's  wares.  So,  with  shift  of  emphasis, 
Cicero  (Alt.  i.  16.  16)  says  to  his  friend  Atticus,  valde  te 
venditavi,  "I  praised  you  a  lot."  English  "knave" 
is  the  same  word  as  German  Knabe,  and  its  original 
meaning  was  "boy."  Many  boys  were  servants,  and 
emphasis  on  that  element  of  the  concept  gave  the 
word  a  new  meaning;  the  transition  stage  is  to  be 
seen  in  The  kokes  knaue,  thet  wasshed  the  disshes1 
("The  cook's  boy  that  washes  the  dishes").  Some 
servants  are  rascals,  and  emphasis  upon  that  part 
of  the  idea  yields  the  modern  meaning  of  the  word 
"knave."  The  original  meaning  of  English  "to  dress" 
was  the  same  as  that  of  French  dresser  "make  straight," 
and  we  still  retain  it  in  "dress  ranks"  and  "dress 
timber."  The  latter  phrase  implies  the  cutting  away  of 
surplus  material,  and  with  emphasis  on  this  part  of  the 
idea  we  get  "dress  hides,"  "dress  poultry,"  "dress  a 
vine."  In  all  these  phrases  the  verb  connotes  prepara- 
tion, and  this  is  the  preponderant  idea  in  "dress  a  salad," 
"dress  a  wound,"  "dress  the  hair."  In  the  last  phrase, 
and  to  a  lesser  degree  in  some  of  the  others,  there  is  an 
idea  of  adornment,  which  becomes  emphatic  in  "dress 
a  shop  window"  or  "he  dresses  his  wife  well."  The 
latter  involves  the  idea  of  clothing,  and  so,  finally,  we 
get  such  phrases  as  "dress  one's  self."  A  simpler 
example  is  "end,"  whose  first  meaning  is  "limit,"  but 
which  often  means  "goal,"  as  in  the  phrase  "an  end  in 
itself." 

The  circumstances  under  which  a  word  is  used  very 
often  lead  to  a  change  of  the  predominant  element  in  its 

*Ancren  Riwle,  (Morton),  p.  380 


88  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

meaning.  The  word  "doubtless"  is  rarely  used  unless 
some  have  doubts  in  the  matter;  if  a  fact  is  really  quite 
free  from  doubt  one  scarcely  takes  the  trouble  to  say  so. 
The  word  therefore  comes  to  imply  more  or  less  doubt- 
fulness, and  sometimes  this  implication  is  the  pre- 
dominant part  of  the  idea;  the  word  " doubtless"  may 
be  employed  to  make  a  statement  less  positive,  as 
"To  this  construction  are  doubtless  to  be  referred  all 
cases."1 

A  change  in  customs  or  environment  sometimes 
makes  a  shift  in  emphasis  inevitable.  Latin  penna 
meant  "feather,"  and  denoted  a  feather  used  as  a 
writing  implement  as  well  as  any  other.  A  shift  of 
emphasis  was  necessary  when  writing  with  quills  became 
so  common  that  this  aspect  of  the  whole  idea  was  for 
many  the  most  familiar  one.  The  word  "fee"  once 
meant  "cattle,"  and  one  element  of  the  concept  was 
the  idea  that  cattle  might  be  used  to  pay  a  debt.  When 
cattle  ceased  to  be  used  for  this  purpose  it  was  no  longer 
possible  to  consider  payment  a  subordinate  characteristic 
of  cattle;  it  must  necessarily  become  an  independent 
idea.  Political  history  is  responsible  for  the  change  in 
meaning  of  Latin  praetor.  As  agent  noun  from  prae-eo, 
the  word  originally  meant  "he  who  goes  before,"  and 
it  was  the  title  of  the  highest  military  and  civil  officer. 
By  successive  limitations  of  power,  this  officer's  func- 
tions changed  from  those  of  general  and  chief  magistrate 
to  those  of  judge  of  a  criminal  court,  and  the  predominant 
meaning  of  the  word  kept  pace;  hence  the  inconsistency 
in  classical  Latin  between  praetor  "criminal  judge" 
and  praelorium  "general's  tent." 

1  Allen  and  Greenough,  New  Latin  Grammar,  p.  260. 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  89 

In  addition  to  their  intellectual  content  words  sug- 
gest certain  emotions.  The  word  "home"  differs  from 
"house"  chiefly  in  its  emotional  content,  and  that  is  also 
the  main  distinction  between  "blockhead"  and  "fool," 
"brats"  and  "children,"  "sweetheart"  and  "lover." 
Sometimes  the  emphasis  on  the  emotional  content  of  a 
word  becomes  so  great  that  the  intellectual  content  is 
lost  sight  of.  Many  conservatives  regard  "anarchists" 
and  "socialists"  with  equally  intense  dislike;  and  so 
one  often  hears  the  two  words  coupled,  as  if  they  applied 
alike  to  all  undesirable  citizens,  although  anarchy  and 
socialism  are  really  opposite  extremes  of  political  theory. 

In  several  of  the  cases  just  discussed  the  shift  of 
emphasis  has  led  to  an  increase  in  the  range  of  applica- 
bility of  a  word.  The  change  in  the  meaning  of  "knave" 
from  "servant  boy  "  to  " servant "  was  due  to  an  exclusive 
emphasis  on  one  element  of  the  idea  and  the  consequent 
elimination  of  the  other  element;  and  then  the  new 
meaning  automatically  applied  to  a  serving  man  as 
well  as  to  a  serving  boy.  The  decrease  in  the  logical 
content  of  the  word  involved  an  increase  in  its  range  of 
applicability.  Such  an  extension  of  application  cannot 
be  consciously  recognized  by  the  speaker;  since  "knave" 
means  to  him  merely  "servant,"  he  is  not  aware  of  an 
innovation  when  he  applies  the  word  to  a  servant  of 
mature  years. 

Worn-out  Figures  of  Speech 

The  causal  relation  of  these  two  processes  is  some- 
times reversed;  a  word  may  be  consciously  employed  in 
a  wider  application  and  consequently  with  a  narrower 
logical  content.  The  speaker  who  first  called  the  support 


90  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

of  a  table  a  "leg"  must  have  been  aware  that  he  was 
applying  the  word  to  a  thing  very  different  from  that 
which  it  had  hitherto  signified;  one  result  of  the  innova- 
tion was  that  "leg"  in  its  new  use  immediately  lost 
some  of  its  content.  Such  a  conscious  and  more  or  less 
arbitrary  extension  of  the  applicability  of  a  word  is 
called  a  figure  of  speech.  It  is  often  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish between  semantic  changes  due  to  shift  of  empha- 
sis and  those  which  originate  as  figures  of  speech.  A 
four-year-old  boy  saw  a  blanket  on  a  horse  and  called 
it  an  "apron."  Did  he  suppose  that  "apron"  meant 
merely  "outer  covering  which  is  not  always  worn,"  or 
did  he  mean  to  say,  "The  horse  is  like  a  woman  with  an 
apron  on"?  Some  of  the  following  examples  possibly 
belong  in  whole  or  in  part  under  the  preceding  topic. 

Figures  of  speech  are  used  for  the  sake  of  vividness, 
suggestiveness,  and  sometimes  for  clearness.  We  call 
a  man  an  "ass"  or  we  call  him  "sour"  for  emphasis  and 
also  to  call  up  the  emotions  associated  with  the  literal 
meanings  of  the  words.  A  figurative  expression  con- 
tributes to  clearness  when  a  language  lacks  a  literal  word 
for  the  idea,  as  when  we  speak  of  a  "transparent  char- 
acter." 

When  a  figure  is  used  very  commonly,  its  figurative 
nature  is  lost,  and  it  is  understood  directly  in  its  second- 
ary sense.  Whereas  the  word  "transparent"  in  the 
phrase  "transparent  character"  is  still  a  genuine  figure, 
the  word  "clear"  in  a  "clear  statement"  has  ceased  to 
suggest  "clear  water,"  a  "clear  sky,"  and  the  like,  as  it 
once  did,  and  thereby  it  has  suffered  a  change  of  meaning. 

Faded  metaphors  are  common  in  all  languages. 
The  "iris"  of  the  eye  was  originally  the  "rainbow"  of 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  91 

the  eye.  "Tulip"  originally  meant  "turban"  and  was 
applied  to  the  flower  on  account  of  its  shape.  "Daisy" 
is  properly  "day's  eye"  and  was  applied  first  to  the  sun 
and  then  by  a  second  metaphor  to  the  flower. 

There  is  a  strong  tendency  to  use  concrete  sensuous 
terms  for  abstract  suprasensuous  ideas.  Some  purely 
intellectual  processes  are  denoted  by  words  which 
primarily  refer  to  physical  action.  "To  compose  a 
poem"  is,  according  to  etymology,  "to  place  it  together." 
In  the  phrase  "to  get  hold  of  an  idea"  the  metaphor  is 
still  felt;  but  the  phrase  "to  comprehend  an  idea"  has 
in  ordinary  use  lost  entirely  its  metaphorical  character. 
Other  instances  are  "simple,"  which  originally  meant 
"without  fold,"  and  its  derivative  "simplicity";  "right," 
which  originally  meant  "straight";  "hard,"  in  such 
phrases  as  "a  hard  task"  or  "a  hard  character." 

Terms  belonging  to  the  sphere  of  one  sense  are  often 
made  to  apply  to  the  objects  of  another.  In  "loud 
colors"  we  still  feel  the  metaphor;  "a  sharp  tongue" 
and  "a  high  note"  hardly  suggest  a  comparison  any 
longer. 

Metonymy  is  the  use  of  one  word  for  another  with 
which  its  meaning  is  closely  connected,  as  when  we 
say  that  one  sets  a  "good  table"  and  keeps  a  "good 
cellar."  The  fading  of  metonymy  gives  us  "board," 
in  the  sense  of  "regular  meals";  "the  pulpit,"  meaning 
"the  clergy";  "the  bar,"  meaning  "the  lawyers"; 
"a  chair,"  meaning  "a  professorship." 

Synecdoche  is  the  naming  of  a  thing  from  one  of  its 
parts  or  qualities.  A  part  is  used  for  the  whole  in 
"hands"  for  "laborers,"  "blade"  for  "a  sword," 
German  Bein  for  "leg"  (originally  the  same  word  as 


92  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

English  "  bone  ").  Similarly,  quality  nouns  often  become 
collective  nouns.  English  "youth,"  "the  quality  of 
being  young,"  comes  to  mean  "those  who  are  young." 
Latin  multitudo  originally  meant  "the  quality  of  being 
many,  maniness,"  just  as  magnitude  means  "the  quality 
of  being  large,  largeness,"  but  it  came  to  mean  "that 
which  contains  many  individuals,  crowd."  A  judge  is 
called  from  a  characteristic  "your  honor";  a  king, 
"your  majesty";  a  king's  son,  "your  royal  highness." 
Sometimes  clothing  gives  a  name,  as  when  the  clergy 
are  called  "the  cloth,"  or  when  we  speak  of  "the  blue 
and  the  gray." 

More  Specific  Meaning  Due  to  a  Modifier 

Whenever  one  needs  an  expression  which  is  more 
specific — that  is,  contains  more  information  and  applies 
to  fewer  objects — than  any  word  in  his  language,  he  is 
compelled  to  use  several  words.  This  is  the  reason 
why  we  have  adjectives  and  adverbs;  there  is  no  one 
word  for  "red  book,"  "large  apple,"  "six  inches," 
"sing  sweetly,"  and  therefore  we  have  to  use  phrases. 
Such  a  phrase  is  inconvenient  and  cumbersome  if  the 
idea  represented  is  at  all  common,  and  there  is  a  tendency 
to  drop  part  of  a  much-used  phrase,  thus  giving  the 
word  that  is  retained  the  more  specific  meaning  of  the 
phrase.  Horace  says  Massicum,  Falcrnnm,  Caccubum 
for  I'iuum  Massicum,  etc.,  just  as  we  say  "Champagne," 
"Madeira,"  etc.,  omitting  the  word  "wine."  The  word 
"meat"  in  early  English  meant  any  kind  of  food,  and  the 
phrase  "flesh  meat"  was  used  where  now  we  say  "meat."' 

1  Another  factor  in  tin's  change  may  have  been  such  phrases  as 
"meat  and  bone,"  "meat  and  hide." 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  93 

Latin  sermo  meant  "talk";  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  phrase 
sermo  religiosus  was  very  common,  and  now  we  use 
"sermon"  in  that  sense  without  an  adjective.  The 
Latin  phrase  hiberna  castra  "winter  camp"  was  simpli- 
fied to  hiberna,  and  thus  hiberna  changed  its  meaning 
from  "of  winter"  to  "winter  camp."  Ludi  changed 
its  meaning  from  "exhibitions"  to  "theatrical  exhibi- 
tions" through  the  phrase  ludi  scenici.  Momentum 
"movement"  gets  the  familiar  meaning  "moment"  from 
the  phrase  momentum  temporis.  Very  striking  instances 
of  this  process  are  the  change  of  Latin  rem  "thing"  to 
French  rien  "nothing"  through  the  phrase  ne 
rien  "not  a  thing,"  and  of  passum  "step"  to  the  French 
negative  pas  through  the  phrase  ne  ...  pas,  which 
originally  meant  "not  a  step." 

Many  indeterminate  words  have  thus  come  to  suggest 
one  of  the  original  alternatives;  English  "luck"  now 
regularly  means  "good  luck,"  whereas  Latin  venenum 
came  to  mean  "an  ill  potion,  poison." 

More  General  Meaning  Due  to  a  Pleonastic  Modifier 

Everybody  is  familiar  with  the  attempt  to  make 
ideas  clearer  or  more  striking  by  expressing  them  twice. 
A  preacher  once  announced,  "An  afternoon  service  will 
be  substituted  instead."  Livy  (xxi.  32.  7)  says  fama 
prius  ....  praecepta  res  erat  "the  matter  had  been 
previously  anticipated  by  rumor."  In  such  pleonastic 
phrases  one  word  is  shorn  of  part  of  its  meaning.  In 
the  church  notice  the  phrase  "substituted  instead" 
leaves  only  the  meaning  "held"  for  "substituted," 
whereas  it  should  mean  ' '  held  instead. ' '  English ' '  with ' ' 
is  connected  with  German  wider  and  originally  meant 


94  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

"against";  but  in  the  phrase  "fight  with"  the  idea 
of  opposition  was  fully  expressed  in  the  verb,  and  there 
was  nothing  left  to  the  preposition  but  accompaniment. 
The  new  meaning  thus  originated  has  now  supplanted 
the  old  one,  except  in  the  compounds  "withstand," 
"withdraw,"  "withhold."  Although  such  changes  of 
word-meaning  are  extremely  rare,  the  process  is  of 
importance  for  syntax,  and  we  shall  discuss  further 
examples  under  that  topic. 

Analogical  Change  of  Meaning 

Any  change  in  the  psychological  grouping  of  words 
involves  a  shift  of  meaning.  The  word  " shed,"  "a  hut," 
is  a  dialectic  form  of  the  noun  "shade";  but,  since  the 
word  has  come  to  be  associated  rather  with  the  verb 
"shed"  and  the  compound  "water-shed,"  we  think  of  a 
"shed"  as  a  protection,  not  from  the  sun,  but  from  the 
rain.  The  word  applies  to  the  same  buildings  as  before, 
but  the  meaning  has  changed  nevertheless. 

The  process  seems  at  first  glance  to  be  the  converse  of 
analogical  change  of  form,  where  an  association  of  two 
or  more  words  on  the  basis  of  meaning  causes  them  to 
approximate  one  another  in  form.  The  noun  "shed," 
on  the  other  hand,  came  to  be  associated  with  the  verb 
"shed"  because  of  their  identity  of  form,  and  the  result 
is  an  approximation  in  meaning.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
however,  an  association  close  enough  to  produce  either 
sort  of  change  must  be  based  upon  a  certain  degree  of 
similarity  between  the  words  affected  in  respect  both  of 
meaning  and  of  form.  The  word  male  could  not  have 
changed  fcmellc  into  "female"  if  the  words  had  not 
already  been  similar  in  form;  the  noun  "shed"  would 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  95 

not  have  been  associated  with  the  verb  "shed"  if  sheds 
had  not  happened  to  shed  water.  The  basis  of  analogical 
change  of  sound  and  that  of  associative  change  of  mean- 
ing are  similar.  Furthermore,  the  processes  often  go  on 
together.  There  is  a  more  definite  association  between 
English  "male"  and  "female"  than  between  French 
male  andfemelle.  The  colloquial  Latin  word  from  which 
"outrage"  is  derived  meant  merely  "excess,"  and  the 
large  emotional  content  which  the  word  now  has  comes 
from  its  association  with  the  word  "rage."  "Shame- 
faced" was  formerly  "shamfast,"  formed  like  "stead- 
fast," and  it  meant  simply  "modest."  The  popular 
etymology  makes  the  word  suggest  blushes  and  at  the 
same  time  changes  its  form.  We  may  therefore  extend 
the  term  analogy  so  as  to  speak  of  analogical  change 
of  meaning. 

While  a  false  etymology  may  produce  no  change  of 
form,  it  almost  always  alters  the  meaning  of  a  word. 
The  popular  derivation  of  "corns"  (on  the  feet)  from 
"corn,"  "grain,"  instead  of  from  Latin  cornu  "horn" 
has  slightly  modified  the  force  of  the  first  word.  "  Ears  " 
of  corn  are  somewhat  different  to  our  thought  if  we 
associate  them  with  our  own  ears.  The  word  "saw," 
"a  saying,"  has  undergone  considerable  change  in 
meaning  since  it  has  been  separated  from  the  verb  "say" 
and  connected  with  "saw,"  "a  cutting  tool."  When 
we  say  that  a  ship  is  "bound  for  Liverpool"  the  word 
"bound"  properly  means  "ready  to  go,"  but  association 
with  the  participle  of  "bind"  leads  us  to  understand  it 
as  "directed  toward,  compelled  to  go  to." 

Analogy  may  extend  to  an  entire  group  of  words  a 
change  of  meaning  which  originates  in  a  part  of  the 


96  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

group.  "Execution"  means  "performance";  but  the 
execution  of  a  decree  of  a  court  may  include  putting  a 
man  to  death,  and  so,  with  shift  of  emphasis,  "execu- 
tion" came  to  mean  "capital  punishment."  Similarly, 
"executioner"  (performer)  came  to  mean  "hang- 
man." The  verb  "execute,"  being  transitive,  was  held 
to  its  original  meaning  by  the  accompanying  object— 
"he  executes  the  decree"  cannot  be  the  source  of  "he 
executes  the  criminal";  but  the  analogy  of  the  two 
words  "execution"  and  "executioner"  finally  caused 
the  verb  "execute"  to  be  used  in  the  new  sense  of  "put 
to  death."  Latin  valeo  meant  "be  well,"  and  the 
second-person  forms  of  the  imperative  and  subjunctive, 
vale,  valete,  valeas,  were  commonly  used  as  formulas  of 
leave-taking.  With  shift  of  emphasis  they  came  to 
mean  "go  away,"  as  in  the  formula  of  divorce,  valeas, 
tibi  habeas  res  tuas.  By  analogy  the  third  person  got  the 
same  force.  In  Terence  (Andria  889)  Simo  disowns  his 
son  for  insisting  upon  a  disadvantageous  marriage: 
immo  habeat,  valeat,  vivat  cum  ilia!  "he  may  marry  her! 
goodby  to  him!  let  him  live  at  her  house!" 

Semantic  Rivalry 

When  a  word  changes  in  form,  we  expect  the  earlier 
form  to  be  lost.  There  are  some  exceptions  to  this  rule, 
as  in  case  of  an  analogical  change  of  form;  or  when  the 
phonetic  laws  give  two  or  more  forms  of  a  word,  accord- 
ing to  the  position  it  occupies  in  the  sentence;  or  when 
a  word  which  has  changed  its  form  in  a  given  language  is 
later  borrowed  into  that  language,  cither  from  its  own 
earlier  literature  or  from  a  related  language.  In  such 
cases,  however,  the  two  forms  of  the  word  will  scarcely 


CHANGE  OF  MEANING  97 

ever  last  a  great  while  unless  they  are  used  in  somewhat 
different  senses;  for  example,  English  "skirt"  and 
"shirt,"  "of"  and  "off,"  Latin  partim  "partly"  beside 
par  tern  (accusative  of  pars  "part"). 

When  a  word  changes  in  meaning,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  old  meaning  is  very  likely  to  survive  alongside  of 
the  new.  English  "youth"  occurs  in  three  meanings, 
which  arose  successively  (see  pages  92  and  141).  Latin 
miles  is  much  more  common  in  its  primary  meaning 
"soldier,"  but  is  not  uncommon  in  the  secondary  mean- 
ing "soldiery."  English  "dress"  is  most  familiar  in  the 
sense  "to  clothe,"  but  several  of  the  more  primitive 
meanings  are  still  in  use. 

There  is,  nevertheless,  some  tendency  to  do  away 
with  one  of  two  or  more  meanings  of  the  same  word. 
Sometimes  the  primary  meaning  of  a  word  is  lost,  and 
only  the  secondary  one  preserved;  Latin  multitude 
never  means  "numerousness,"  English  "fee"  never 
means  "cattle." 

Many  have  regretted  the  loss  of  old  meanings  and 
the  fading  of  the  figures  of  speech  in  which  some  current 
meanings  originated.  They  have  also  urged  that  we 
could  better  understand  the  actual  use  of  words  if  we 
were  fully  conscious  of  their  history.  The  study  of 
etymology,  it  has  been  supposed,  is  a  practical  help  to 
the  correct  use  and  full  understanding  of  a  language. 
There  is  a  certain  aesthetic  value  in  the  knowledge 
that  "Florida"  originally  meant  "land  of  flowers,"  or 
that  "daisy"  is  properly  "the  eye  of  day,"  or  that 
"Margaret"  means  "pearl."  But  it  is  not  often  that  a 
consciousness  of  a  word's  etymology  helps  to  an  under- 
standing of  its  present  meaning,  and  in  many  cases  such 


98  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

knowledge  is  actually  a  hindrance.  If  a  knowledge  of 
the  true  etymology  leads  anyone  to  associate  the  noun 
"shed"  with  "shade,"  he  will  miss  the  present  meaning 
of  the  word.  Archbishop  Trench,  in  a  book  that  was 
long  used  as  a  textbook,1  derived  the  word  "desultory" 
from  Latin  desultor  "one  who  rides  two  or  three  horses 
at  once,  leaps  from  one  to  the  other,  being  never  on  the 
back  of  any  one  of  them  long."  He  continues:  "Take, 
I  say,  the  word  thus  to  pieces,  and  put  it  together  again, 
and  what  a  firm  and  vigorous  grasp  will  you  have  now  of 
its  meaning!  A  desultory  man  is  one  who  jumps  from 
one  study  to  another,  and  never  continues  for  any  length 
of  time  in  one."  But  when  I  say  that  Archbishop 
Trench's  treatment  of  linguistic  problems  is  desultory, 
I  do  not  mean  to  compare  the  reverend  gentleman  with 
a  circus  rider!  If  the  metaphors  did  not  die  out  of 
language,  the  most  commonplace  remark  would  be  so 
overloaded  with  impertinent  suggestions  that  we  could 
not  discover  which  idea  it  was  intended  to  express. 
Etymology  is  a  valuable  study,  but  we  should  not  expect 
it  to  help  us  very  much  in  understanding  our  mother- 
tongue. 

1  The  Study  of  Words,  p.  352. 


CHAPTER  V 

CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY 

Reasons  for  the  Loss  of  Words 

When  ideas  are  lost  to  a  community,  the  words  which 
denoted  them  drop  out  of  use.  There  are  many  words 
in  the  English  dictionary  which  we  never  have  occasion 
to  use  except  in  speaking  of  the  past.  Since  threshing 
machines  have  been  introduced,  we  rarely  speak  of 
"flails";  and  since  spinning  is  now  done  by  machinery, 
the  word  "distaff"  is  wanting  in  most  persons'  vocabu- 
laries. "Stocks,"  "pillory,"  and  "whipping-post"  are 
rare  words.  In  another  generation  the  schoolboy's 
"slate"  will  be  as  completely  forgotten  as  his  "horn- 
book" is  now. 

Unless  synonyms  come  to  be  differentiated  in  mean- 
ing, one  of  them  is  usually  lost.  "Writing"  and 
"scripture"  once  meant  the  same  thing.  The  latter 
has  been  differentiated  in  meaning  from  the  former, 
so  that  it  is  synonymous  with  "Bible,"  and  this  word 
has  practically  driven  it  out  of  use.  English  "yea" 
and  "nay"  were  once  distinguished  from  "yes"  and 
"no"  in  that  the  former  answered  an  affirmative  ques- 
tion ("Are  you  going?"),  while  the  latter  answered  a 
negative  question  ("Are  you  not  going?").  When 
this  distinction  broke  down,  "yea"  and  "yes,"  "nay" 
and  "no"  became  exact  synonyms,  and  now  "yea"  and 
"nay"  have  become  obsolete.  In  early  English  the 
principal  parts  of  "bear"  and  "break"  were  "bear, 

99 


ioo  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

bare,  born(e)"  and  "break,  brake,  broke(n)."  The 
analogy  of  such  verbs  as  "slide,  slid,  slidden,"  "spin, 
spun,  spun,"  and  "fight,  fought,  fought,"  brought  the 
vowel  of  the  participle  into  the  past  tense  and  yielded 
the  forms  "bore"  and  "broke,"  which  have  now  sup- 
planted their  older  rivals. 

The  Polynesian  word  tapu  (whence  English  "taboo"), 
like  Latin  sacer,  must  be  translated  into  English  some- 
times by  "sacred"  and  sometimes  by  "accursed";  the 
Polynesians  are,  as  the  Romans  were,  unconscious  of  the 
distinction,  which  to  us  seems  fundamental.  The 
Polynesian  "taboo"  differs  from  Latin  sacer  in  being 
connected  with  magic  rather  than  with  religion;  and 
yet  Latin  sacer  also  was  largely  a  magician's  word. 
A  further  difference  is  that  Polynesian  "taboo"  applies 
to  many  more  acts  and  objects  than  Latin  sacer  did. 
The  effect  of  taboo  is  that  one  is  forbidden  to  perform 
certain  acts,  to  use  or  to  touch  certain  objects,  or  to 
speak  certain  words.  Commoners  must  not  touch  or 
speak  to  a  king  or  a  priest;  at  certain  times  one  must 
not  eat  the  flesh  of  certain  animals;  one  must  not  enter 
a  burying  ground,  except  to  bury  the  dead;  brother  and 
sister  must  not  speak  to  each  other  or  even  remain  in 
each  other's  presence.  If  asked  why  he  is  afraid  to  do 
these  things  the  savage  may  reply  that  some  harm  would 
befall  either  himself  or  someone  dear  to  him;  the  penalty 
may  be  death,  disease,  failure  of  crops,  etc.  In  such  cases 
the  taboo  is  a  sort  of  negative  magic.  But  often  no  pen- 
alty can  be  named  for  the  violation  of  a  taboo;  the  act  is 
not  performed  simply  because  it  is  regarded  as  improper. 

If  the  institution  of  taboo  were  confined  to  Polynesia 
it  would  not  be  worth  our  attention;  but  it  is  found  in  a 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  101 

lesser  degree  in  nearly  all  savage  and  semi-civilized  races, 
and  no  clear  distinction  can  be  drawn  between  taboo  and 
certain  irrational  habits  of  our  own.  Why,  for  example, 
do  we  not  allow  a  railroad  to  condemn  a  right  of  way 
through  a  graveyard?  Why  do  we  persist  in  wearing 
clothes  in  the  hottest  summer  weather?  Why  is  it 
strictly  forbidden  to  eat  with  one's  knife  ? 

By  the  vast  majority  of  mankind  names  are  iden- 
tified with  the  objects  for  which  they  are  used.  In 
the  Hindoo  philosophic  systems  ndmarupam  "name  and 
form"  signifies  "personality,  the  individual  existence 
of  a  man";  ndmarupam  is  even  said  to  originate  in  the 
mother's  womb.  Most  systems  of  magic  take  it  for 
granted  that  he  who  knows  the  name  of  a  person  or  object 
has  mystic  power  over  it.  Consequently  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  among  others,  had  two  personal  names  apiece, 
a  "grand"  name,  which  was  carefully  kept  secret,  and 
a  "little"  name  for  ordinary  use.  It  is  not  strange, 
then,  that  words  as  well  as  things  and  acts  are  taboo. 
In  various  parts  of  the  world  one's  own  name,  or  the 
names  of  one's  relatives,  of  a  husband,  of  a  wife,  or  of 
relations  by  marriage,  must  be  avoided.  The  natives  of 
Australia  and  the  American  Indians,  among  others,  will 
not  speak  the  name  of  one  who  is  dead.  The  names  as 
well  as  the  persons  of  kings  or  chiefs  are  taboo.  In 
many  places  words  which  resemble  taboo  names  are 
themselves  taboo.  Hence  when  a  new  king  ascends  the 
throne  any  word  which  resembles  his  name  must  be 
given  up. 

Common  nouns  too  are  often  taboo.  Various 
dangerous  or  injurious  animals  may  not  be  spoken  of 
by  their  own  names,  because  these  are  necessarily 


102  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

uncomplimentary;  instead  they  are  called  "the  mighty 
one,"  "  the  silent  one,"  "  the  old  man,"  or  the  like.  Such 
circumlocutions  are  used  for  the  wolf  in  Sweden,  for  the 
bear  in  Russia,  for  the  rattlesnake  by  the  American 
Indians,  for  the  lion,  the  tiger,  and  the  cobra  in  various 
tropical  countries. 

Very  frequently  the  name  of  a  god  or  a  demon  is 
taboo.  The  Furies  of  Greek  mythology  were  such  fear- 
ful beings  that  people  feared  they  might  offend  them  by 
using  their  proper  name,  'Eptwes;  and  so  the  Furies  were 
called  Eu/i€f[6es  "gracious  ones."  The  most  dreadful 
of  the  gods  of  the  early  Hindus  was  Rudra.  According 
to  the  Brahmanas,  Prajapati  committed  incest  with  his 
daughter,  and  the  gods  sought  in  vain  for  someone  who 
should  be  able  to  punish  the  crime.  "Then  they  all 
brought  together  the  most  fearful  substances  that  dwelt 
within  them  into  a  heap:  therefrom  came  this  god," 
that  is,  Rudra;  and  he  avenged  the  crime.  His  back 
is  red,  the  color  of  death  and  everything  fearful,  and  his 
belly  is  dark  blue.  It  is  he  who  sends  sickness  and  all 
misfortune,  his  arrows  are  fever  and  cough.  In  the 
Vedas  the  proper  name  Rudra  was  still  used  freely, 
although  the  god  was  often  addressed  by  such  epithets 
as  "the  great  god,"  "the  ruler,"  "the  lord  of  cattle," 
"the  gracious,"  "the  mighty,"  "the  terrible."  In  later 
Hinduism  Rudra  is  no  longer  called  by  his  ancient  name; 
he  is  now  £iva  "the  kind"  or  Nandi  "the  gladsome." 
There  is  no  essential  difference  between  this  sort  of 
taboo  and  our  own  avoidance  of  such  words  as  "devil," 
"hell,"  "damn."  Many  persons  prefer  to  say  the 
"Almighty"  instead  of  "God,"  the  "Savior"  instead  of 
"Jesus  "or  "Christ." 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  103 

In  other  cases  our  modern  reticences  differ  consider- 
ably from  taboo  among  savages  in  the  meaning  of  the 
words  affected,  but  our  feeling  is  scarcely  more  rational 
than  the  old  fear  of  naming  the  dead  or  of  calling  the  wolf 
by  his  own  name.  There  are  many  English  words  so 
strictly  taboo  that  one  dare  not  mention  them  even  as  ex- 
amples. Very  many  others  are  avoided  in  polite  society, 
for  example  "puke,"  "stink,"  "whore,"  "bastard."  In 
fact,  there  seems  to  be  a  tendency  to  increase  the  scope 
of  this  sort  of  taboo  in  England  and  America.  Some 
people  will  not  use  the  word  "belly";  there  are  expur- 
gated editions  of  the  familiar  Christmas  jingle  which 
omit  the  lines: 

He  has  eyes  black  as  ink,  and  a  little  round  belly, 
That  shakes  when  he  laughs  like  a  bowl  full  of  jelly. 

Placards  were  formerly  posted  in  the  Union  Station  at 
Indianapolis  which  read  as  follows:  "Please  do  not 
expectorate  (spit)  on  the  platform."  There  are  people 
who  say  "limb"  for  "leg,"  because,  forsooth,  women 
wear  skirts.  In  England  the  word  "bug"  is  taboo, 
because  it  means  what  we  call,  under  our  breath,  "bed- 
bug." 

Reasons  for  the  Rise  of  New  Words 

New  ideas  are  originated  with  even  greater  frequency 
than  old  ideas  are  lost.  In  the  case  of  new  inventions, 
scientific  discoveries,  philosophical  theories,  etc.,  the 
new  name  is  usually  the  work  of  one  man  or  of  a  very 
few.  Biologists  are  always  privileged  to  name  new 
species  which  they  discover.  Professor  Bloomfield,  of 
Johns  Hopkins  University,  invented  the  word  "haplol- 
ogy,"  which  we  had  occasion  to  use  above.  Other 


104  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

recent  words  are  "appendicitis,"  "motory"  (motory 
sensations),  "subliminal,"  "helium,"  "spark-plug." 
Hundreds  of  new  scientific  terms  are  originated  every 
year.  Many  of  them  never  come  to  be  used  by  more 
than  a  few  specialists,  but  some,  like  those  just  men- 
tioned, gain  a  more  general  currency.  Of  course  dis- 
coveries, inventions,  and  the  origination  of  words  to 
denote  them  are  not  limited  to  modern  times.  Pythag- 
oras was  unwilling  to  be  called  ffo^iarris  "wise  man, 
wizard,"  as  other  thinkers  of  his  day  called  themselves; 
and  so  he  invented  a  new  word,  $t\6o-o<£os  "lover  of 
wisdom,"  to  describe  his  novel  attitude  toward  knowl- 
edge. When  Cicero  translated  Greek  philosophic  writ- 
ings into  Latin,  he  was  forced  to  invent  many  new  words, 
such  as  indolentia  and  qualitas  for  Greek  biradeia  and 
TTOU^TT/S,  respectively. 

Frequently  a  new  word  springs  up  from  the  people. 
When  the  practice  of  putting  criminals  to  death  by 
means  of  electricity  was  introduced,  someone  invented 
the  word  "electrocute"  to  describe  the  process.  Bar- 
barously formed  as  the  word  was,  its  plausible  resem- 
blance to  "execute"  gained  its  immediate  acceptance 
with  the  newspapers  and  the  crowd.  The  introduction 
of  the  "aeroplane"  brought  with  it  that  word,  which  is 
doubtless  due  to  the  inventor  of  the  machine,  and  also 
such  words  as  "airman,"  "birdman,"  which  are  already 
obsolete,  and  "aviator,"  which  bids  fair  to  survive. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  of  all  new  words  are 
those  which  stand  for  new  groupings  of  facts  or  new 
subdivisions  of  a  class.  A  chief  difference  between  the 
thinking  of  the  savage  and  that  of  the  civilized  man  is 
that  the  former  tends  to  perceive  objects  separately, 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  105 

often  taking  note  of  comparatively  minute  differences 
between  them,  but  more  rarely  grouping  them  into 
classes,  while  civilized  man  tends  to  notice  resemblances 
and  to  form  classes.  In  other  words,  civilized  thinking 
is  increasingly  conceptual.  Languages  reflect  this  psy- 
chological difference.  The  Bakaiiri  Indians  of  South 
America  have  names  for  several  varieties  of  parrots, 
but  no  word  for  "parrot";  they  distinguish  many  kinds 
of  palm  trees,  but  have  no  word  for  "palm-tree"  in 
general.  The  primitive  Indo-European  language  had  a 
word  for  "father"  and  one  for  "mother,"  but  there  is 
no  evidence  that  it  had  a  word  for  "parent";  there  was 
an  astonishing  number  of  words  to  designate  relatives  of 
various  degrees,  but,  so  far  as  the  evidence  goes,  no  word 
for  "relative"  in  general.  There  are  savage  tongues 
which  use  distinct  words  to  indicate  how  many  objects 
are  meant;  one  word,  for  example,  will  denote  "one 
coconut,"  and  quite  a  different  one,  "three  coconuts." 
In  the  personal  pronouns  of  the  Indo-European  languages 
we  have  a  trace  of  this  state  of  affairs.  Even  in  English 
the  first  personal  pronoun  consists  of  four  distinct  words, 
"I,"  "me,"  "we,"  "us." 

All  languages,  especially  those  of  civilized  races,  are 
frequently  enriched  by  the  introduction  of  new  general 
terms.  The  Dutch  chemist  Van  Helmont  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  category  which  should  include  all  such 
substances,  as  "air,"  "oxygen,"  "hydrogen,"  etc.,  and 
called  it  "gas."  Most  names  of  scientific  genera  are 
general  terms  of  recent  invention,  as  are  also  such  com- 
prehensive terms  as  "vertebrate"  and  "invertebrate." 
In  this  field,  however,  language  lags  behind  the  intellec- 
tual life  of  a  people;  a  new  class-name  cannot  appear 


io6  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

until  a  concept  has  been  formed  which  it  is  to  represent, 
but  the  word  need  not  at  once  follow  the  rise  of  the 
concept.  We  often  think  of  "knife,"  "fork,"  and 
"spoon"  as  the  utensils  with  which  we  eat,  and  in  Italian 
the  three  together  are  called  posale;  in  standard  English 
the  concept  lacks  a  name,  although  housewives  some- 
times use  the  phrase  "flat  silver"  in  this  sense.  There  is 
no  one  word  for  the  articles  sold  in  a  bookstore,  namely, 
books,  periodicals,  and  stationery.  Neither  is  there  a 
name  for  substances  that  float  in  water.  I  once  lived 
at  a  small  boarding-house  for  students  where  breakfast 
was  likely  to  be  a  hurried  meal.  When  a  boarder  ap- 
peared in  the  dining-room,  the  waiter  brought  him  a 
dish  of  cereal  and  a  cup  of  coffee.  Then  arose  a  need 
for  sugar,  milk,  and  spoon,  and  the  only  way  to  get 
them  was  to  ask  another  boarder  to  pass  them;  it  seemed 
greedy  to  ask  for  the  three  in  one  breath,  and  yet  if 
you  asked  for  only  one  you  would  ordinarily  get  only 
that.  We  all  longed  in  vain  for  a  general  term  to  include 
the  three  until  a  brilliant  Freshman  called  them  the 
"fixings." 

While  some  savages  are  content  with  specific  names 
for  objects  which  interest  them — names  which  designate 
each  minute  species  and  leave  the  genus  undesignated— 
they  have  for  objects  which  do  not  arouse  so  much  inter- 
est only  vague  general  terms  without  any  designation 
for  the  particulars.  The  Bakairi  Indians  have  one 
word  which  means  "thunder"  and  "lightning"  and 
another  for  "rain,"  "thunderstorm,"  and  "cloud." 
That  is,  they  can  speak  of  a  cloud  only  by  calling  it 
"rain,"  and  the  most  violent  thunderstorm  comes  under 
the  same  term.  The  difference  of  this  from  a  group- 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  107 

name,  such  as  English  "storm,"  is  apparent.  A  child 
speaks  in  the  manner  of  a  savage  when  he  calls  all  men 
"papa,"  all  liquids  "water,"  all  animals  by  the  first 
animal  name  he  happens  to  learn. 

Advancing  civilization  frequently  invents  specific 
names  for  details  not  hitherto  named.  English  has 
always  had  a  word  for  "cloud,"  although  Anglo-Saxon 
wolken  was  in  no  way  related  to  the  modern  term.  The 
names  of  the  different  kinds  of  cloud,  however — "  cirrus," 
"cumulus,"  "nimbus,"  etc. — are  comparatively  new. 
Ancient  languages,  even  Latin  and  Greek,  were  poor 
in  color-words  and  inexact  in  the  use  of  those  that  they 
had.  Modern  speech  is  enriched  every  few  years  by 
the  introduction  of  a  new  color-name  of  quite  exact 
meaning.1 

Many  new  words  are  due  to  a  desire  for  novelty. 
Such  are  the  slang  words  which  spring  suddenly  into 
popularity  and  for  a  few  months  seem  amusing  enough 
to  enliven  the  dullest  conversation,  but  which  presently 
send  a  shudder  down  the  spine  of  one  whose  slang  is 
up  to  date.  Not  long  since  I  heard  a  professor  of  my 
acquaintance  remark  jauntily,  "You're  off  your  base." 
That  phrase  was  once  as  fresh  and  spicy  as  "have  a 
heart"  or  "do  one's  bit"  is  now;  but  to  use  such  anti- 
quated slang  today  is  equivalent  to  labeling  yourself  a 
has-been.  Who  wants  to  call  his  partner  in  the  Platts- 
burg  military  trot  a  "lulu"  or  the  music  "hot  stuff"? 
Yet  that  is  what  one  said  in  the  days  before  the  schot- 
tische  went  out  of  vogue!  George  Ade's  Artie  called 

1  No  doubt  the  development  of  new  dyestuffs  has  a  great  deal  to  do 
with  new  color-names;  but  the  colors  all  exist  in  nature  and  might  have 
been  named  a  thousand  years  ago  if  men's  attention  had  been  drawn  to 
them. 


io8  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

dollars  "cases"  or  "simoleons."  About  the  year  1910 
the  word  "skiddoo"  was  a  favorite  imperative  for  con- 
temptuous dismissal. 

Occasionally  a  word  introduced  for  the  sake  of  nov- 
elty finds  a  permanent  place  in  the  language.  "Mob" 
was  originally  a  jesting  abbreviation  of  the  phrase 
mobile  vulgus,  and  for  many  years  it  was  regarded  as 
slang.  English  "gamin"  comes  from  the  French, 
where  it  was  originally  slang.  There  is  some  indication 
that  the  slang  word  "eats"  for  "refreshments"  will 
make  a  place  for  itself. 

When  religious  feeling,  modesty,  or  prudery  leads  to 
the  loss  of  a  word,  its  place  is  sometimes  supplied  by  an 
old  word  or  phrase  used  in  a  new  sense.  Many  persons 
say  "hades"  for  "hell,"  "stomach"  for  "belly,"  "per- 
fume" for  any  kind  of  a  smell.  A  phrase  may  be  sub- 
stituted for  a  tabooed  word.  Shakespeare's  thieves  call 
themselves  "St.  Nicholas'  clerks"  or  "minions  of  the 
moon."  A  small  boy  who  had  been  taught  not  to  say 
"devil"  was  asked  what  the  day's  sermon  was  about 
and  replied,  "About  the  gentleman  that  keeps  hell." 

In  other  cases  the  taboo  leads  to  the  use  of  a  new 
word.  We  say  "vomit"  instead  of  "puke,"  "procurer" 
for  "pimp"  or  "pander,"  "perspiration"  for  "sweat." 
A  few  persons  say  "expectorate"  instead  of  "spit." 
"Palm-oil"  takes  the  place  of  "bribe"  with  practical 
politicians.  "Head-money"  is  a  bribe  paid  for  a  vote. 
"Love-child"  is  used  to  avoid  the  odium  of  "bastard." 
Of  course  there  is  no  end  to  the  invention  of  new  names 
for  unpleasant  things;  each  of  them  presently  becomes 
contaminated  and  has  to  be  abandoned  in  its  turn. 
To  the  Greeks  the  left  side  was  unlucky,  and  since 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  109 

it  was  a  bad  omen  to  mention  ill  fortune  they 
avoided  the  word  for  "left."  Hence  XauSs  and  o-/cai6s 
(cognate  with  Latin  laevus  and  scaevus)  gave  way  to 
ctpiorepos,  "the  better,"  and  when  this  too  became  a 
word  of  ill  omen  people  substituted  ev&vv/jios,  "of  good 
name." 

A  change  of  models  may  lead  to  the  introduction  of 
new  words.  Some  American  imitators  of  the  English 
like  to  say  "shop"  instead  of  "store,"  "chemist"  in- 
stead of  "druggist,"  "tram"  instead  of  "street  car." 
Many  speakers  of  English  and  German  like  to  employ 
French  words,  particularly  for  anything  that  has  to  do 
with  eating  or  getting  married.  Hence  we  have  "chef" 
and  "fiancee,"  "table  d'hote"  and  "trousseau,"  "cafe 
noir,"  and  "divorcee." 

Sources  of  New  Words — Analogical  Creation 

By  far  the  most  important  means  of  enriching  the 
vocabulary  is  analogical  creation,  a  subject  to  which  we 
have  alluded  (pages  42  f.),  but  which  demands  further 
treatment  here.  In  standard  English  we  have  the 
words  "enthusiasm,"  "enthusiast,"  and  "enthusiastic," 
but  since  there  is  no  corresponding  verb  we  are  com- 
pelled to  use  the  cumbrous  phrases  "to  become  enthusi- 
astic" and  "to  make  enthusiastic."*  Aside  from  their 
excessive  length  these  locutions  are  unsatisfactory  be- 
cause they  differ  from  the  other  members  of  the  group 
more  widely  than  is  justified  by  a  difference  in  function. 
To  meet  this  want  the  verb  "enthuse"  has  been  formed. 
It  has  not  yet  won  its  way  into  good  usage,  but  it  fills 
a  real  need  and  will  probably  become  a  permanent  part 
of  the  language. 


no  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

As  we  observed  before,  the  tendency  toward  analogi- 
cal creation  can  always  be  represented  in  the  form  of  a 
problem  in  proportion.  The  German  personal  pronouns 
have  separate  forms  for  accusative  and  dative  singular, 
mich,  mir;  dich,  dir;  but  the  reflexive  has  only  one  form 
for  the  two  cases.  Some  dialects  have  formed  a  new 
dative,  as  a  result  of  the  tendency  which  we  may  formu- 
late, dich: dir  =  sich:x  (sir).  Ordinarily  the  formula  is 
not  so  simple  as  this,  unless  we  arbitrarily  abbreviate  it. 
Vulgar  English  has  formed  the  verbs  "elocute"  and 
"evolute"  after  the  nouns  "elocution"  and  "evolution." 
The  pairs  of  words  which  led  to  the  new  formations  were 
extremely  numerous;  a  partial  statement  of  the  formula 
is  " construct " : " construction "  =  " subtract " : "subtrac- 
tion "  =  "promote  " :  "promotion  "  =  "  regulate  " : "  regula- 
tion "="  emulate  "  :  "emulation "  =  "  constitute  "  :  "con- 
stitution" ="  execute"  :  "execution"=:r :  "elocution"  = 
x -."evolution."  In  such  a  case  it  is  usual  to  select  one 
or  two  pairs  to  represent  the  entire  group  and  to  state 
the  problem  and  its  solution  together:  " execute" ^'exe- 
cution "  =  "  evolute  ":"  evolution." 

Composition 

A  phrase  which  has  been  fused  into  a  single  word  is 
called  a  compound  word.  The  change  from  phrase  to 
word  is  gradual,  and  many  expressions  may  be  considered 
either  as  phrases  or  as  compound  words.  Is  "apple-pie " 
one  word  or  two?  Is  "nevertheless"  one  word  or 
three  ?  If  it  is  one  word,  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
equivalent  expression,  "for  all  that"?  There  is  the 
same  question  about  the  Latin  quemadmodum,  and 
scnalusconsidtum;  about  the  German  moglicherweise 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  in 

and  wenngleich.  In  general  we  may  say  that  we  are 
dealing  with  a  compound  word  and  no  longer  with  a 
phrase  when  the  whole  is  in  any  way  isolated  so  as  to 
be  felt  as  a  unit.  Latin  denuo  from  denovo  is  isolated 
by  the  change  of  ov  to  u  in  the  unaccented  syllable. 
English  "anew"  was  originally  "of  new,"  for  we  habitu- 
ally say  "a"  for  "of"  before  a  consonant  ("a  matter  a 
fact,"  "a  pound  a  tea").  "Anew,"  however,  is  no 
longer  felt  as  a  phrase,  because  "new"  without  the 
article  is  no  longer  used  as  a  substantive.  "Mid- 
night" and  "midday"  are  felt  as  compounds,  because 
their  first  element  is  a  word  no  longer  used  in  ordinary 
speech.  "Railroad"  is  isolated  by  the  fact  that  it  does 
not  apply  to  all  roads  made  of  rails  (not,  for  example, 
to  roads  made  of  wooden  rails  lying  crosswise),  and  it 
is  still  further  isolated  by  the  information  it  conveys, 
which  cannot  be  inferred  from  the  syntactic  combination 
of  its  elements;  for  "railroad"  means,  in  part,  "a  road 
constructed  of  steel  rails  laid  upon  wooden  crossties 
for  the  rapid  passage  of  heavy  cars  propelled  by  steam 
or  electricity."  Other  compounds  which  are  isolated 
by  the  large  amount  of  meaning  packed  into  them  are 
English  "typewriter,"  "fireworks,"  German  Fern- 
sprecher  "telephone,"  Latin  verisimilis,  which  is  not 
merely  "like  the  truth,"  but  also  "probably  true, 
probable,"  Greek  AioaKoupoi,  which  designates  two 
particular  sons  of  Zeus,  namely,  the  twins  Castor  and 
Pollux. 

Not  all  compounds,  however,  can  be  explained  as 
stereotyped  phrases.  When  compounds  of  a  given 
type  have  become  familiar  in  a  language,  new  compounds 
of  similar  form  and  meaning  are  made  by  analogical 


H2  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

creation.  At  the  time  when  illuminating  gas  was 
introduced  English  had  long  possessed  the  compounds 
"sunlight,"  "daylight,"  "firelight,"  "candlelight," 
"lamplight."  Since  that  day  the  group  has  been  exten- 
ded by  the  analogical  compound  "gaslight."  Many 
German  compounds,  such  as  Glucksrad  and  Tageslicht, 
have  a  genitive  as  prior  member.  On  the  analogy  of  these 
have  been  formed  many  compounds,  like  Bildungs- 
kraft,  with  feminines  in  the  prior  member,  although 
feminines  never  have  a  genitival  5  when  they  stand  in 
ordinary  syntactic  relations.  The  formula  is  Glilck: 
Glucksrad = Bildung :  Bildungskraft. 

A  similar  explanation  must  be  sought  for  the  stem- 
compounds  of  the  inflected  Indo-European  languages. 
Latin  armiger,  multiplex,  triangulus,  Greek  t7T7r65ajuos 
"horse-taming,"  drjuoKparla  "democracy,"  apurroKparla 
"aristocracy,"  Sanskrit  indra-guptas  "protected  by 
Indra,"  and  many  others  have  forms  as  prior  members 
which  have  no  independent  existence.  It  is  commonly 
supposed  that  this  type  of  compound  arose  in  very  early 
times  when  noun-stems  were  used  as  words,  that  is, 
before  the  inflection  of  the  noun  was  fully  developed. 
Some  compounds  formed  then  survived  the  completion 
of  the  noun-declension,  and  these  served  as  models  for 
the  creation  of  other  compounds.  Assuming  that  Latin 
letifcr  was  one  of  the  type-words,  we  may  account  for 
the  formation  of  fatifer  by  the  formula,  letum  fcro: 
letifer=fatum  fero:  fatifer.  It  has  recently  been  sug- 
gested that  the  type-words  for  these  formations  were 
not  properly  compounds  at  all,  but  simple  words  which 
came  to  be  analyzed  into  two  parts.  Whether  this 
theory  is  true  or  not,  Latin  fatifer  and  the  great  mass 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  113 

of  similar  words  are  certainly  compounds  formed  after 
pre-existing  types  precisely  as  English  "gaslight"  was 
formed. 

Derivation 

A  majority  of  all  new  words  are  formed  from  old 
words  by  the  processes  of  derivation.  From  the  point 
of  view  of  grammar  there  are  four  of  these:  derivation 
by  suffix,  derivation  by  prefix,  significant  change  in  the 
body  of  a  word,  and  inverse  derivation.  All  are  cases 
of  analogical  creation. 

We  usually  think  of  a  suffix  as  an  independent  linguis- 
tic element  which  may  be  mechanically  added  to  words 
or  stems.  Tennis  players  have  introduced  the  noun 
"server,"  which  seems  to  consist  of  the  verb  "serve" 
plus  the  suffix  -er.  This  simple  and  obvious  explanation 
of  derivatives  is  the  one  implied  by  all  our  grammatical 
terminology.  The  fallacy  in  it  is  the  assumption  that  a 
suffix  is  separable  from  the  stem,  in  other  words,  that  -er 
by  itself  indicates  the  agent.  The  problem  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  originated  the  noun  "server"  was  not, 
"What  shall  we  add  to  the  verb  'serve'  to  name  the 
man  who  serves?"  but,  "What  is  the  word  that  stands 
to  'serve'  as  'player'  stands  to  'play'?"  We  do  not 
mean  to  imply  that  any  problem  was  consciously  pro- 
posed; the  need  of  a  word  and  familiarity  with  the 
pair  "play": "player"  and  many  similar  pairs  produced 
the  new  term  without  conscious  reflection.  When  the 
verb  "pump"  was  formed  from  the  noun  "pump, "  it  was 
furnished  with  an  inflection  by  a  series  of  analogical 
creations:  "help"  :  " helps "  =  "pump"  :  "pumps"; 
"help"  :  " helped "  =  "pump"  :  "pumped";  "help": 
"helping "  =  "pump": "pumping."  The  term  suffix  is 


H4  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

useful  as  a  label  for  certain  bits  of  speech  material,  but 
a  suffix  can  be  transferred  from  word  to  word  only  by 
analogy. 

Many  suffixes  originate  in  compound  words.  We 
have  seen  that  a  phrase  is  fused  into  a  compound  word 
by  the  gradual  obscuring  of  its  parts.  The  process  does 
not  always  cease  with  the  isolation  of  the  word ;  we  are 
fully  conscious  of  the  etymology  of  "bodyguard,"  but 
in  "breakfast"  the  obscuration  has  gone  so  far  that  the 
naive  speaker  never  thinks  of  the  etymological  meaning, 
although  most  persons  know  it.  Many  compounds 
contain  a  member  that  is  no  longer  recognizable;  in 
"bishopric,"  "cowslip,"  and  "bridal"  we  are  aware  of 
the  first  element,  but  not  of  the  second.  In  such  cases 
as  these  analogical  creation  may  make  a  suffix  out  of  the 
obscured  member  of  the  compound.  Aside  from  such 
Old  English  compounds  as  "shameful,"  "sorrowful," 
"thankful,"  "baleful,"  we  have  a  number  of  newly 
formed  derivatives,  such  as  "respectful,"  "forgetful," 
"masterful,"  which  were  never  felt  as  compounds. 
They  are  due  to  such  proportions  as :  "shame " : " shame- 
ful" =  "  respect ":"  respectful. " 

There  are  three  conditions  which  must  usually  be 
present  before  compounds  can  yield  suffixes  in  this  way: 
(i)  The  prior  members  of  the  compounds  must  keep 
their  identity,  for  otherwise  the  proportion  will  lack 
its  first  extreme.  (2)  The  final  member  must  have  the 
same  meaning  in  several  compounds,  or  else  it  must 
appear  in  one  compound  which  is  common  enough  and 
important  enough  to  establish  the  type.  (3)  The  mean- 
ing of  the  final  member  must  be  general  enough  so  that 
it  can  be  used  in  other  words.  All  three  of  these  con- 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  115 

ditions  were  present  in  the  compound  "shameful." 
"Bishopric"  has  not  yielded  a  suffix  because  the  element 
-ric  does  not  occur  in  other  words.  "Cowslip"  lacks 
both  the  second  and  the  third  condition. 

Another  suffix  abstracted  from  compounds  is  prob- 
ably to  be  seen  in  the  Latin  adverbs  acriter,  ferociter, 
etc.  Breviter  seems  to  have  been  originally  a  phrase, 
breve  iter  "by  the  short  road."  In  course  of  time  the 
phrase  became  a  compound  breviter,  like  German 
kurzweg  and  English  "straightway."  There  must  have 
been  other  compounds  containing  the  same  final  element; 
perhaps  celeriter  was  one  of  them;  but  most  of  the 
adverbs  in  -ter  are  based  on  adjectives  which  can  scarcely 
have  modified  the  noun  iter.  After  the  origin  of  the 
final  member  had  been  forgotten,  it  was  transferred  as 
a  suffix  on  the  basis  of  such  proportions  as  brevis  (geni- 
tive) :  breviter =acris:  acriter.1  The  French  future  suffix 
originated  in  the  same  way.  Donnerai,  finirai  were 
originally  compounds  of  infinitives  with  the  verb-form 
ai  "have."  Present-day  speakers,  however,  do  not 
feel  the  words  as  compounds,  but  as  derivatives  with  a 
suffix  -rai. 

Analogical  creation  sometimes  makes  a  suffix  out  of 
a  variation  which  has  arisen  through  the  action  of 
phonetic  laws  or  in  some  other  way.  The  distinction 

1  Audactcr,  prudenter,  etc.,  may  have  been  shortened  by  syncope, 
or  they  may  have  originated  from  the  relation  of  the  nominative  to  the 
adverb;  brevis : breviter  =  audax :  audacter.  Duriter  is  for  durum  iter,  and 
aliter  may  be  *aliiter  with  dissimilative  loss.  Delbriick  (Gru-ndriss,  III, 
631)  thinks  that  the  adverbs  in  -ter  were  formed  on  the  model  of  inter, 
praeter,  circiter,  etc.,  but  I  can  find  no  formula  to  explain  the  creation  of 
aliter  on  the  model  of  circiter.  No  doubt  the  two  groups  of  adverbs 
reinforced  each  other,  but  in  origin  they  must  be  kept  apart. 


n6  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

between  "my"  and  "mine,"  "thy"  and  "thine"  was 
originally  phonetic,  like  that  between  "a"  and  "an." 
In  course  of  time  "my"  and  "thy"  came  to  be  used 
where  the  noun  was  expressed  after  them,  "mine"  and 
"  thine,"  where  it  did  not  follow.  By  analogical  creation 
we  get  the  vulgar  pronouns  "hisn,"  "hern,"  "yourn," 
"theirn,"  where  n  is  a  suffix.  In  such  German  plurals 
as  Ochsen  and  Kinder  the  syllables  -en  and  -er,  respec- 
tively, were  originally  parts  of  the  stem  (corresponding 
to  in  and  er  in  Latin  homines  and  genera).  At  first  n 
and  r  occurred  in  certain  cases  of  the  singular,  as  in 
Latin,  but  in  course  of  time  the  shorter  stem-forms  (cor- 
responding in  a  way  to  homo  and  genus)  came  to  be  used 
in  all  cases  of  the  singular,  the  forms  with  n  and  r  in  the 
plural.  At  this  point  analogical  creation  introduced 
the  plurals  Ilirlen,  Soldaten,  T  ha  ten,  W  brier,  BUcher,  etc., 
beside  singulars  which  never  had  an  n  or  r. 

It  is  sometimes  said  that  foreign  suffixes  are  borrowed. 
This  is  actually  done  sometimes  by  way  of  jest,  as  when 
Cicero  uses  the  Greek  suflix-reop  to  make  from  Latin 
facio  a  form  Jactcon.  The  sentence  runs  as  follows: 
"Quare,  ut  opinor,  ^CKoao^-qriov,  id  quod  tu  facis,  ct 
istos  consulatus  non  flocci  facleon"  I  have  heard  the 
German  participial  prefix  ge-  used  with  English  verbs 
in  a  similar  spirit;  for  example,  "I  have  not  ge-wenl" 
Aside  from  such  quips,  prefixes  and  suffixes  are  not 
borrowed;  only  complete  words  are  taken  over  from  one 
language  into  another. 

Sometimes,  however,  a  foreign  suffix  is  naturalized 
by  analogical  creation.  If  a  language  borrows  from 
another  a  number  of  primitive  words  and  a  derivative 
from  each  with  the  same  suffix,  that  suffix  may  form  new 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  117 

derivatives  in  the  borrowing  language.  We  have  bor- 
rowed from  the  French  a  great  many  such  pairs  as  "  de- 
grade": "degradation,"  "form "-."formation,"  "note": 
"notation,"  and  on  the  basis  of  these  we  have  formed 
new  derivatives  from  English  verbs,  for  example, 
"starvation"  from  "starve,"  "flirtation"  from  "flirt"; 
the  suffix  is  even  found  in  some  peculiarly  colloquial 
words,  such  as  "botheration,"  "murderation,"  "thun- 
deration." 

A  very  interesting  group  of  suffixes  is  the  one 
seen  in  "baptize,"  "baptist,"  and  "baptism."  These 
three  words  are  Greek  Pairrifa,  jSaTrrwrifa,  /3a7rri0yx6s, 
the  first  of  which  is  derived  from  /3a7rrco  "dip,"  while  the 
others  are  derived  from  /SaTrrtf a>.  All  three  were  taken 
into  Latin  by  the  early  Christians  and  reached  English 
by  way  of  the  French.  A  number  of  other  words  with 
the  same  suffixes  have  reached  the  modern  world  by 
the  same  route,  for  example,  "syllogize"  and  "syl- 
logism," "evangelize"  and  "evangelist."  These  suffixes 
have  all  been  naturalized  in  French,  and  many  new 
groups  have  originated  there,  as  realiser,  realiste,  realisme. 
The  suffix  -isle  in  particular  is  as  familiar  as  anything 
in  the  language.  When,  in  September,  1914,  General 
Gallieni  promised  the  people  of  Paris  to  defend  them 
jusqu'au  bout,  the  phrase  was  adopted  as  a  watchword 
of  the  patriotic  cause,  and  presently  the  patriots  called 
themselves  jusqu'au  boutistes.  English  has  borrowed 
many  groups  of  these  French  formations,  for  example, 
"realize,"  "realist,"  "realism,"  and  today  there  are 
scarcely  any  English  suffixes  that  are  used  with  greater 
freedom  than  these  three;  every  newspaper  contains 
such  recent  coinages  as  "revolutionize,"  "bossism," 


u8  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

"pacifist,"  "pacifism."  The  last  two  examples  are  in- 
teresting because  they  illustrate  the  falsity  of  the  opinion 
that  suffixes  are  mechanically  appended  to  words  or 
stems;  there  is  no  such  word  or  stem  as  pacif.  These 
words  originated  in  a  psychological  process  which  we  may 
represent  by  the  formula,  "economic"  :  "economist"  = 
"pacific"  :  "pacifist"  (cf.  A.  H.  Weston,  New  York 
Nation,  CV  [1917],  174  f.)- 

Prefixes  are  transferred  from  word  to  word  in  the 
same  way  as  suffixes;  the  new  word  "unequal"  was 
formed  from  the  loan-word  "equal"  on  the  model  of  such 
pairs  as  "like": "unlike." 

If  an  identical  prior  member  of  a  number  of  com- 
pounds becomes  obscure,  while  the  various  final  members 
retain  the  meanings  which  they  have  as  separate  words, 
the  result  may  be  a  prefix.  Latin  minus  in  the  sense  of 
"not"  entered  into  a  number  of  compounds  as  prior 
member,  and  thus  yielded  the  French  prefix  me-,  mes-, 
which  appears  in  mesaventure,  mesalliance,  mecreant. 
When  these  and  similar  words  were  taken  over  into 
English,  their  initial  syllable  was  connected  by  false 
etymology  with  the  prefix  of  English  "misdeed,"  etc., 
and  hence  the  Old  French  mes-  was  changed  to  the  mis- 
of  English  "misadventure,"  "misalliance,"  "miscreant," 
etc.  The  Modern  English  prefix  mis-  is  in  part  of  native 
origin  and  in  part  due  to  these  French  loan-words.  Our 
prefix  re-  comes  altogether  from  such  pairs  of  French 
loan-words  as  "form": "reform,"  " generate ":" regen- 
erate," and  "iteration": "reiteration." 

The  variation  in  the  body  of  the  words  between 
English  "drive"  and  "drove"  was  not  originally  sig- 
nificant. The  vowels  correspond  historically  to  those 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  119 

of  the  cognate  Gothic  dreiba  "I  drive"  and  draib  "I 
drove,"  and  the  same  variation  appears  in  Greek 
XetTroj  "leave,"  perfect  XeXowra.  The  alternation  origi- 
nated in  some  unknown  way  in  the  Indo-European  par- 
ent-language. In  all  the  historic  idioms  which  retain  it, 
except  some  of  the  Germanic  languages,  it  is  accompanied 
by  other  variations  in  prefix  or  suffix,  or  both,  which  really 
carry  the  temporal  force.  Even  in  Gothic,  in  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  to  a  certain  extent  in  Modern  German 
present  and  preterite  are  distinguished  by  different 
systems  of  personal  endings  as  well  as  by  the  vowel  of 
the  base.  In  Modern  English,  however,  barring  the 
third  person  singular,  the  only  difference  between 
"drive"  and  "drove,"  "sing"  and  "sang,"  "bear  and 
"bore"  is  the  difference  in  vowel;  a  change  in  vowel 
alone  is  enough  to  alter  the  tense.  On  the  model  of 
these  and  other  inherited  pairs  new  preterites  have 
been  formed  as  follows:  " drive ":" drove "  =  " strive ": 
"strove"  (a  French  word),  "sing" :" sang"  =  "ring": 
"rang"  (Anglo-Saxon  hringde),  "bear":  "bore  "  = 
"  wear  " : "  wore ' '  (Anglo-Saxon  werode) . 

We  have  seen  that  the  different  vocalism  of  English 
"man"  and  "men,"  "foot"  and  "feet,"  etc.,  arose  by 
assimilation  of  a  to  the  i  of  the  old  plural  suffix  -iz 
(*manniz  became  *menniz  and  this  became  "men"). 
Here  again  the  change  in  vowel  was  not  significant  until 
the  ending  was  lost. 

The  process  of  derivation  by  change  within  the  body 
of  the  word  is  carried  very  far  by  the  Semitic  languages, 
whose  vocabulary  is  built  up  in  large  part  from  a  num- 
ber of  roots  consisting  of  three  consonants  each.  Vari- 
ous modifications  of  the  basic  idea  are  marked  by  the 


120  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

insertion  of  different  vowels  and  consonants  between 
the  radical  consonants.  The  Semitic  languages  exhibit 
these  triliteral  roots  in  their  earliest  records  (far  more 
ancient  than  the  earliest  remains  of  Indo-European 
speech),  and,  since  the  same  system  is  to  be  observed 
in  the  related  language  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  we 
must  push  the  origin  of  this  method  of  derivation  back 
to  a  time  many  centuries  earlier  than  our  earliest 
records  of  either  Semitic  or  Egyptian.  Nevertheless 
it  is  probable  that  the  triliteral  system  arose  in  some 
such  way  as  the  English  inflections  "drive": "drove," 
"man":"men,"etc. 

When  the  pair  " execute ":" execution "  calls  up  a 
new  word  "evolute"  to  correspond  to  "evolution,"  the 
new  form  is  in  reality  a  derivative.  It  differs,  however, 
in  several  respects  from  most  derivatives.  Instead  of 
being  longer  than  the  word  from  which  it  is  derived,  it 
is  actually  shorter;  it  lacks  a  suffix  which  "evolution" 
contains.  Moreover,  it  is  created  as  a  parallel  to  words, 
like  "execute"  which  are  the  primitives  from  which 
"execution,"  etc.,  are  derived;  and  accordingly  "evo- 
lute" is  felt  by  most  of  those  who  use  it  to  be  the  word 
from  which  "evolution"  is  derived. 

This  does  not  differ  psychologically  from  other  kinds 
of  derivation,  but  its  results  are  so  different  that  we  are 
justified  in  calling  it  inverse  derivation.  It  is  less  com- 
mon than  derivation  by  suffix  or  prefix,  but  examples 
are  to  be  found  in  all  languages.  Latin  pugnare  is  a 
derivative  of  pugnus  "fist,"  and  pugna  is  an  inverse 
derivative  from  the  verb  on  the  basis  of  such  pairs  as 
fuga:Jngare.  Latin  undare  "surge"  is  a  derivative  of 
undo,  "wave."  With  the  verbal  prefix  ab-  we  have 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  121 

abundare  "overflow,"  and  from  this  comes  the  inverse 
derivative  abunde  "abundantly,"  which  is  formed  on 
the  model  of  firmare  :firme,  etc. 

Variant  Forms 

Phonetic  laws  and  analogical  change  may  produce 
two  words  from  one.  In  early  Latin  a  short  final  vowel 
was  omitted  in  rapid  speech  before  an  initial  consonant 
of  the  following  word,  yielding  the  variants  neque  and 
nee,  face  andfac,  deinde  and  dein.  Analogy  changed  honos 
to  honor,  and  the  old  form  survived  alongside  the  new. 
While  such  doublets  do  not  arise  on  account  of  any  need 
in  the  language,  they  may  supply  an  additional  word,  a 
need  for  which  happens  to  exist.  Examples  of  the 
differentiation  in  the  meaning  of  doublets  are  "shoal" 
and  "shallow,"  "of"  and  "off,"  "not"  and  "naught," 
"shade"  and  "shadow."  In  the  earliest  Latin  *deiws 
was  used  as  a  noun  meaning  "god"  and  as  an  adjective 
meaning  "divine."  Phonetic  law  changed  the  nomina- 
tive into  deus  and  the  genitive  into  divi.  Analogy 
filled  out  a  declension  for  each  of  the  two,  and  then  deus 
was  specialized  as  a  noun,  while  divus  retained  the 
original  freedom  of  use  in  both  functions.  A  trace  of 
the  adjectival  use  of  deus  is  probably  to  be  seen  in  the 
phrase  Dis  Manibus  "to  the  Divine  Manes"  frequently 
inscribed  on  tombs. 

Loan-Words 

The  English  vocabulary  has  been  enormously 
enlarged  by  loans  from  foreign  languages.  In  the  period 
from  the  eighth  to  the  tenth  centuries  a  great  many 
Scandinavian  words  were  adopted.  For  some  centuries 
after  the  Norman  conquest  vast  numbers  of  French 


122  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

words  were  naturalized.  Ever  since  England  became 
a  maritime  nation,  and  particularly  since  the  establish- 
ment of  English-speaking  nations  in  distant  parts  of  the 
world,  words  have  been  freely  adopted  from  nearly  all 
known  tongues.  America's  contributions  include  "wig- 
wam," "wampum,"  and  "tomahawk"  from  the  Indian 
languages;  "adobe,"  "corral,"  and  "ranch"  from  the 
Spanish  of  the  southwest;  "sauerkraut,"  "smear-case," 
and  " wiener- wurst,"  or  "wienies,"  from  the  German 
colonies  in  the  large  cities.  Asia  is  represented,  for 
example,  by  Chinese  "tea,"  Japanese  "kimono,"  Malay 
"gong,"  Hindoo  "jungle,"  Persian  "pagoda,"  Arabic 
"sherbet."  Australia  gives  us  "kangaroo"  and  "boom- 
erang." From  Africa  come  "chimpanzee,"  "gorilla," 
"gnu,"  "zebra."  Most  words  introduced  by  trans- 
lators and  by  scholars  in  general  come  from  written 
language.  They  are  sometimes  taken  from  modern 
literatures  (German  "ablaut"  and  "umlaut"),  but 
more  commonly  from  the  classical  languages  (Greek 
"drama,"  "cosmos,"  "chaos";  Latin  "ictus,"  "adjec- 
tive," "adverb"). 

Languages  differ  enormously  in  the  number  of  foreign 
words  they  have  borrowed.  To  change  classical  San- 
skrit into  certain  of  the  later  Hindoo  languages  one  need 
do  little  else  than  apply  certain  sound-changes  and 
allow  for  a  few  analogical  changes  in  declension  and  con- 
jugation. The  translation  of  Anglo-Saxon  into  Modern 
English,  on  the  other  hand,  consists  very  largely  in 
substituting  loan-words  for  Teutonic  words  that  have 
gone  out  of  use.  English,  in  fact,  contains  more  borrowed 
words  than  any  other  of  the  cultivated  languages  of 
Europe;  but  it  still  retains  so  much  native  material 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  123 

that  there  is  no  difficulty  in  classifying  it  as  a  Germanic 
language.  Albanian,  although  on  the  basis  of  its  struc- 
ture and  some  of  its  most  common  words  it  is  called 
an  independent  branch  of  the  Indo-European  family, 
has  borrowed  so  much  Latin  that  it  has  to  be  included 
in  comparative  grammars  of  the  Romance  languages. 

Instead  of  borrowing  a  foreign  word,  one  may  com- 
bine native  linguistic  elements  on  the  foreign  model. 
Oertel  cites  the  words  "overdrive"  and  "overdriven" 
from  a  writer  who  clearly  had  in  mind  German  uber- 
treiben  and  ubertrieben.  "Aeroplane"  is  giving  way  to 
"airplane."  The  efforts  made  in  Germany  in  the  last 
fifty  years  or  so  to  "purify"  the  language  of  foreign 
elements  have,  for  example,  substituted  Kurzschrift 
for  Stenographic,  Eindecker  for  Monoplan,  Vertrag  for 
Kontrakt.  This  selfconscious  modern  reform  is  at  bot- 
tom in  harmony  with  a  tendency  that  has  long  existed; 
Goethe  substituted  W asserleitung  for  Aquaeduct,  um- 
laufen  for  circulieren,  Zwischenreich  for  Interregnum.1 

The  translators  of  the  Bible  are  anxious  to  represent 
the  exact  force  of  the  original  and  also  to  be  understood. 
Loan-words  would  be  quite  exact,  but  only  native  speech 
material  can  be  understood.  Hence  the  Vulgate  repre- 
sents Greek  o-v/iTraftko  by  compatior,  vTrepeKirepLaaov  by 
superabundanter,  awoiKeu  by  cohabito,  crwcux/xdAcoTos  by 
concaptivus .  Christianity  was  carried  to  the  Germans 
by  the  Roman  church,  and  therefore  Latin  words  rather 
than  Greek  are  reflected  in  the  German  technical  terms 
of  Christianity.  Compatior,  itself  an  example  of  this 
process,  has  yielded  mitleiden,  computer  gives  Gevatter, 

1  For  other  German  examples,  see  F.  W.  G.  Heuser,  Germanistic 
Society  Quarterly,  IV,  26-46. 


124  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

conscientia  is  reflected  by  Gewissen.  Cicero  resorted 
to  the  same  device  in  translating  Greek  philosophy,  as 
when  he  coined  indolentia  on  the  model  of  Greek  (ibrdfleta. 

A  very  important  group  of  borrowed  words  consists  of 
proper  names,  as  when  a  man  is  spoken  of  in  a  language 
not  his  own;  "Cicero"  is  a  word  which  all  civilized 
languages  have  borrowed  from  the  Latin.  There  are  a 
few  exceptions  to  the  rule,  as  when  a  Chinaman  in  the 
United  States  is  known  to  his  neighbors  as  the  "Chink" 
or  "John,"  or  a  German  is  known  as  the  "Dutchman." 
A  few  persons,  on  moving  to  a  new  country,  translate 
their  names  or  arbitrarily  change  them;  some  of  the 
American  "Smiths"  were  called  Ferreiro,  Ferrajo,  or 
Schmidt  in  the  old  country,  and  a  few  of  our  new  fellow- 
citizens  have  assumed  the  surname  "American."  Still 
it  is  generally  true  that  a  personal  name  is  transferred 
from  one  language  to  another  with  only  such  phonetic 
alteration  as  all  loan-words  are  subject  to. 

Names  of  tribes,  races,  and  countries  are  usually 
borrowed  from  the  language  of  the  people  concerned. 
Here  again  there  are  a  few  exceptions.  The  Spanish 
discoverers  of  America  gave  the  "Indians"  an  Asiatic 
name.  The  £rst  Teutonic  invaders  of  England  called 
the  natives  welisce  men  "foreigners,"  and  we  still  call 
them  "Welshmen."  Cities  also  usually  have  the  same 
name  the  world  over,  although  there  are  instances  of  the 
change  of  a  city-name,  as  when  Constantine  renamed 
"Byzantium"  in  his  own  honor,  or  when  "New  Amster- 
dam" fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British  and  became 
"New  York."  Rivers,  mountains,  etc.,  are  likely  to 
have  the  same  name  in  all  languages,  and  they  usually 
keep  their  name  whatever  language  comes  to  be  spoken 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  125 

in  their  neighborhood.  Most  American  rivers  have 
Indian  names,  such  as  "Connecticut,"  "Mississippi," 
"Illinois";  but,  oddly  enough,  mountains  in  the  United 
States  usually  have  English  names. 

Words  from  Proper  Names 

The  tendency  of  proper  names  to  remain  the  same  in 
spite  of  a  change  from  one  language  to  another  is  one 
side  of  the  general  isolation  of  proper  names  from  other 
speech  material.  Even  the  phonetic  laws  often  leave 
proper  names  untouched ;  gradual  changes,  such  as  that 
of  Latin  unaccented  a  to  £,  probably  always  affect  them, 
but  a  sound-change  that  spreads  from  word  to  word  may 
or  may  not  be  applied  by  any  individual  to  his  own  name, 
and  we  usually  pronounce  a  man's  name  according  to  his 
preference. 

The  isolation  of  proper  names  is  not  complete,  how- 
ever. They  may  spring  from  other  linguistic  material, 
as  Miller,  Stephenson,  Cascade  City,  Bald  Mountain, 
Little  River.  Conversely  proper  names  frequently  yield 
other  proper  names,  common  nouns,  and  even  verbs. 

Geographical  names  are  often  based  upon  personal 
names,  especially  in  the  newly  discovered  parts  of  the 
world,  for  example,  Peary  Land,  Grinnell  Land,  and 
Smith  Sound  in  the  Arctic  region.  Numerous  American 
towns  have  taken  their  names  from  persons.  Sometimes 
the  personal  name  is  in  the  genitive  case  followed  by  a 
common  noun,  as  in  Wale's  Station,  Stewartstown, 
Huntsville,  Williamsburg.  Sometimes  the  personal 
name  becomes  an  adjective,  as  in  Mason  City,  or  the 
prior  element  of  a  compound,  as  in  Reedtown  and 
Jacksonville.  Any  of  these  names  may  lose  one  of  its 


126  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

elements  in  familiar  speech.  Mechanicsburg,  Indiana,  is 
known  in  its  neighborhood  as  "the  Burg,"  and  Elkhorn, 
Missouri,  as  "the  Horn."  More  frequently  the  generic 
word  is  lost  and  the  distinctive  part  of  the  name  is  kept. 
Thus  Marshalltown  is  spoken  of  as  "Marshall,"  and 
Pike's  Crossing  as  "Pike's,"  while  Boise  City  has  deter- 
mined to  put  away  crude  things  by  dropping  the  "  City." 
(Has  Idaho  heard  of  New  York  City  ?)  Since  "  Pike's," 
"GoodalTs,"  "Lovett's,"  etc.,  are  obviously  genitives, 
there  is  a  tendency  to  form  new  nominatives,  "Pike," 
"Goodall,"  "Lovett."  Probably  place-names  which 
had  gone  through  the  process  illustrated  by  "Marshall" 
for  Marshalltown  or  the  one  illustrated  by  "Pike"  for 
Pike's  Crossing  furnished  the  first  models  for  the  naming 
of  towns  from  personal  names  without  change  or  addi- 
tion, for  example,  Jackson,  Harper,  Pierce,  Madison. 

Rivers  and  mountains  furnish  names  for  towns. 
Towns  give  names  to  railways,  roads,  and  all  sorts  of 
institutions,  among  others,  colleges.  The  Chicago 
River  has  named  the  city;  the  city  has  named  the 
Chicago  &  Alton  Railroad,  the  Chicago  Athletic  Club, 
the  Chicago  Opera  House,  the  University  of  Chicago, 
and  consequently,  the  Chicago  football  team,  the 
Chicago  colors,  etc. 

More  important  is  the  use  of  proper  names  or  their 
derivatives  as  common  nouns  or  verbs.  We  call  a  rich 
man  a  "Croesus,"  an  old  man  a  "Methuselah";  Shylock 
calls  Portia  "a  Daniel  come  to  judgment."  The  Assyr- 
ians have  been  named  the  "Romans  of  Asia."  Nearly 
every  American  college  town  in  the  West  or  in  the 
South  boasts  of  being  the  "Athens  of  the  West."  A 
mountainous  region  in  North  Carolina  is  known  in  the 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  127 

guide  books  as  the  "Switzerland  of  America";  so  also 
Yosemite,  Lake  George,  Lake  Louise  in  the  Canadian 
Rockies.  Any  of  these  metaphors  might  become  stereo- 
typed hi  the  manner  already  indicated;  and,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  name  "Caesar"  has  become  a  common  noun 
in  German  Kaiser  and  Russian  Tsar.  Men's  discoveries 
and  inventions  are  often  named  after  them;  for  example, 
"Slight's  disease,"  the  "Pasteur  filter,"  the  "Morse 
telegraph,"  the  "Morse  code."  By  the  loss  of  the 
generic  term  we  get  such  an  expression  as,  "The  opera- 
tor's Morse  was  excellent."  Other  circumstances,  too, 
may  attach  a  man's  name  to  a  thing  or  an  act.  "To 
burke  one"  is  to  smother  him  and  sell  his  body  for  dissec- 
tion, as  a  certain  Burke  of  Edinburgh  did.  The  "boy- 
cott" is  named  from  the  first  prominent  victim  of  the 
system. 

Derivatives  of  proper  names  are  common;  for 
example,  "pasteurize,"  "the  Caesarian  operation." 
While  Porfirio  Diaz  was  dictator  of  Mexico,  a  certain 
politician  was  accused  of  attempting  to  "diazify"  the 
United  States.  History  is  full  of  such  terms  as 
"Medize,"  "the  Sullan  revolution,"  "the  Napoleonic 
wars."  No  speaker  is  ordinarily  conscious  that  "peach" 
is  properly  " Persian < apple >  "and  "damson,"  "  <plum 
from  >Damascus." 

Original  Creition 

So  far  we  have  been  discussing  the  formation  of  new 
words  from  speech  material  already  in  existence.  A 
really  new  creation  of  linguistic  material  is  so  rare  that 
it  should  be  assumed  only  on  the  strongest  evidence; 
nevertheless  it  does  occur. 


128  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Some  of  the  most  familiar  cases  of  original  creation 
result  from  what  the  psychologists  call  expression  move- 
ments. "  Every  mental  process  has  some  way  of  express- 
ing itself  through  the  body;  or,  in  other  words,  there  is 
always  some  bodily  sign  which  tells  us,  if  we  are  good 
observers,  that  a  certain  mental  process  is  in  our  neigh- 
bor's consciousness."1  These  bodily  signs  of  mental 
processes  are  most  pronounced  in  the  case  of  emotions. 
Darwin  describes  the  marks  of  fear  as  follows: 

That  the  skin  is  much  affected  under  the  sense  of  great  fear, 
we  see  in  the  marvelous  and  inexplicable  manner  in  which  per- 
spiration immediately  exudes  from  it.  This  exudation  is  all  the 

more  remarkable  as  the  surface  is  then  cold The  hairs 

also   on    the    skin    stand    erect;    and    the   superficial   muscles 

shiver The  salivary  glands  act  imperfectly;  the  mouth 

becomes  dry,  and  is  often  opened  and  shut.2 

Darwin  refers  to  the  effect  which  fear  has  upon  the 
muscles  of  the  mouth  and  throat;  other  emotions  also 
affect  the  organs  of  speech,  and  the  result  is  frequently  a 
sound;  hence  the  cries  of  young  children  and  of  the  deaf. 
A  sound  which  in  the  first  instance  was  due  to  an  expres- 
sion movement  may  be  repeated  or  may  be  imitated  by 
others  to  suggest  the  circumstances  under  which  the  sound 
was  first  made.  In  this  way  we  get  some  of  our  conven- 
tional interjections.  "Oo"  is  often  heard  as  an  expres- 
sion for  pleasant  sensation,  but  seems  not  to  have  got  into 
the  dictionaries.  "  Oh  "  as  an  interjection  for  surprise  and 
"ow"  and  "ouch"  for  sudden  pain  have  long  had  lexical 
treatment;  so  has  the  grunt  of  disgust  ("ugh")  and  the 

1  Titchener,  Primer  of  Psychology,  p.  62. 

1  The  Expression  of  the  Emotions  in  Man  and  Animals,  p.  290 
(Appleton,  1888). 


CHANGE  IN  VOCABULARY  125 

grunt  of  disdain  ("humph").  Such  interjections  as 
these  are  even  more  distinct  from  the  general  body  of 
speech  than  are  proper  names;  but  still  ordinary  words 
may  be  made  from  them.  German  achsen  is  a  derivative 
of  ach.  Greek  a\a\a£eiv  is  from  dXaXcu,  and  A.eXtfeti' 
is  from  eXeXeu. 

The  various  cries  which  we  use  to  attract  attention, 
such  as  "boo"  and  "hello"  and  "hey,"  are  perhaps  not 
due  to  expression  movements,  but  they  seem  to  be 
original  creations  of  a  similar  nature.  "Hem"  was  in 
the  first  instance  the  sound  made  by  clearing  the  throat 
in  preparation  for  speaking,  and  hence  it  came  to  have 
value  for  attracting  attention.  The  word  may  also  be 
used  as  a  verb,  "He  hemmed  and  hawed."  The  inter- 
jections sh,  ss,  and  st  have  given  rise  to  the  words  "  hush," 
"hiss,"  and  "hist,"  the  first  two  of  which  have  deriva- 
tives, "hushed,"  "husher,"  "hisses,"  "hissing,"  etc. 

As  one  watches  an  exciting  game  or  any  other  effort 
which  arouses  sympathy,  one  has  an  impulse  to  imitate 
the  movements  observed.  I  have  seen  an  umpire  at 
basket-ball  attract  the  attention  of  an  entire  audience 
by  the  ludicrous  way  in  which  he  played  the  game  on  the 
sidelines.  Singers  say  that  after  hearing  very  high 
notes  they  find  that  they  have  strained  their  vocal 
chords  and  become  hoarse.  It  is  not  incredible,  then, 
that  the  sight  of  a  swaying  object  should  set  the  lips  to 
swinging  and  lead  to  the  utterance  of  a  sound  like 
German  bammeln  "sway,"  which  some  suppose  to  have 
originated  in  this  way.1 

1 1  am  aware  that  the  example  is  not  perfect,  since  bammeln  is  prob- 
ably connected  in  some  way  with  Baum;  but  it  must  be  used  until  a 
better  one  is  suggested,  for  the  probability  that  words  have  been  formed 
in  about  this  way  is  very  great. 


130  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Somewhat  similar  to  this,  but  involving  more  or  less 
conscious  effort,  is  the  imitation  of  a  sound  in  nature. 
There  are  very  many  words  which  seem  to  mimic  the 
sounds  they  signify;  "thunder,"  "grumble,"  "ring," 
and  all  such  words  are  sometimes  called  onomatopoetic. 
In  many  cases,  however,  this  imitative  character  did  not 
originally  belong  to  them.  When  our  word  "thunder" 
is  traced  back  to  the  Anglo-Saxon,  it  loses  a  considerable 
part  of  its  sonorousness,  and  the  corresponding  verb 
punian  roars  even  more  gently.  The  related  verbs, 
Latin  tonet  and  Sanskrit  tanvati,  do  not  suggest  thunder 
at  all.  Furthermore,  the  root  of  all  these  words,  ten, 
seems  to  be  a  by-form  of  the  root  sten  which  appears  in 
Greek  arivtw  "to  groan"  and  crrbvos  "a  groan."  It  is 
then  by  no  means  certain  that  the  original  meaning  was 
"thunder,"  and  it  is  exceedingly  improbable  that  the 
word  was  originally  an  imitation  of  thunder.  Some 
words,  however,  are  clearly  imitative.  A  number  of 
interjections  are  mere  echoes  of  sounds,  for  example, 
"kerplunk,"  "biff,"  "bing,"  German  bums. 

The  names  of  birds  are  very  often  imitations  of  their 
cries.  In  English  we  have  "chewink,"  "bobolink," 
"chickadee,"  "chough,"  "curlew,"  "dickcissel," 
"pewee."  The  names  "bobwhite"  and  "whippoor- 
will"  owe  their  present  form  to  contamination  with 
older  linguistic  material. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX 

Up  to  this  point  we  have  confined  our  attention 
chiefly  to  the  smaller  linguistic  elements — words, 
syllables,  and  sounds.  The  processes  which  we  have 
been  considering,  however,  affect  phrases  and  sentences, 
and  in  some  respects  their  operation  upon  these  larger 
speech-units  differs  from  anything  we  have  yet  observed. 
The  name  syntax  forms  a  convenient  label  for  that 
treatment  of  linguistic  problems  which  does  not  arbi- 
trarily confine  its  attention  to  single  words;  but  it  will 
be  evident  in  what  follows  that  there  is  no  clear  line  of 
division  between  syntax  and  other  parts  of  grammatical 
science. 

Analogy 

In  sentence  structure  even  more  than  in  other 
aspects  of  language,  analogy  is  a  factor  of  prime  impor- 
tance. While  a  speaker  can  learn  a  large  vocabulary 
by  rote  and  draw  on  his  memory  for  each  word  he  wants 
to  use,  such  a  treatment  of  sentences  is  quite  impos- 
sible. Many  sentences,  to  be  sure,  may  be  and  regu- 
larly are  exactly  reproduced  from  memory,  for  example, 
"Here  I  am,"  "Where  is  it?"  "Good  morning,"  "It's 
a  warm  day";  but  even  the  least  talkative  of  men 
speaks  far  more  sentences  than  he  could  commit  to 
memory.  Most  of  them  are  built  up  by  analogical  crea- 
tion; remembering  the  type  sentence  "It's  a  warm 
day,"  the  speaker  makes  a  new  sentence  "It's  a  warm 


132  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

summer."  The  formula  is  "day":  "It's  a  warm  day"  = 
"summer":  "It's  a  warm  summer."  Since  analogy 
is  constantly  employed  in  forming  our  sentences  it  is 
particularly  easy  for  analogy  to  effect  a  change  in  syntax. 

The  cardinal  numerals  are  very  closely  associated 
with  one  another  on  the  basis  of  their  meaning.  In  the 
primitive  Indo-European  language  the  lower  numerals 
were  adjectives,  but  the  words  for  "hundred"  and 
"thousand"  were  nouns.  In  English,  however,  as  in 
most  of  the  historic  Indo-European  languages,  the 
analogy  of  the  adjective  numerals  has  made  "hundred" 
and  "thousand"  into  adjectives.  Latin  centum  is  an 
adjective,  and  so  regularly  is  mille,  but  the  plural  milia 
retained  its  primitive  use  as  a  noun.  In  this  instance 
association  on  the  basis  of  meaning  has  brought  about 
identity  of  function. 

Contamination  is  particularly  common  in  the  realm 
of  syntax.  That  is,  a  person  often  thinks  of  two  equiva- 
lent or  partially  equivalent  sentences  and  pronounces 
part  of  each.  I  have  frequently  found  myself  saying, 
"Why  did  you  do  that  for?"  and  I  have  heard  the 
converse,  "What  did  you  do  that?"  When  Plautus 
(Mil.  619)  wrote  te  decora  "things  worthy  of  you,"  he 
had  in  mind  the  two  equivalent  phrases  te  digna  and 
tibi  decora.  When  he  wrote  (Poen.  1308)  quid  tibi  hanc 
digito  tactiost?  he  had  in  mind  tu  hanc  tangis  and  tibi 
huius  tactiost.  Latin  quin  "why  not"  was  often  used  to 
introduce  a  question  virtually  equivalent  to  a  command ; 
quin  diets?  "why  don't  you  sa.y?"  =  dic  "say."  A  con- 
tamination of  the  two  yields  quin  dic?^  a  common  type 
of  sentence  in  colloquial  Latin.  Cicero  sometimes  uses 
the  genitive  after  recorder  because  that  is  the  regular 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  133 

construction  after  the  equivalent  non  obliviscor.  In 
the  phrase  mea  refert,  mea  agrees  with  re;  analogy  has 
introduced  mea  into  the  equivalent  phrase  mea  interest. 
Sometimes  the  contamination  is  between  sentences  that 
are  not  exactly  equivalent.  A  combination  of  7s  non 
venit  "He  did  not  come"  with  Nullus  venit  "No  one 
came"  gives  us  (Plautus  As.  408)  Is  nullus  venit  "He 
didn't  come  at  all." 

It  frequently  happens  that  a  sentence  is  summarized 
by  a  single  word,  such  as  the  "fact,"  the  "occurrence," 
"that,"  "it."  Some  nouns  regularly  serve  as  mere 
substantivized  verbs,  for  example,  "arrival,"  the 
"coming,"  Latin  tactio.  There  are,  then,  many  asso- 
ciation groups  which  consist  in  part  of  substantives  and 
in  part  of  verbs  or  sentences;  under  certain  circum- 
stances the  sentence  "They  are  coming,"  the  phrase 
"their  arrival,"  and  the  pronouns  "it,"  "that,"  etc., 
may  be  used  repeatedly  in  a  conversation  with  reference 
to  the  same  event,  that  is,  with  identical  meaning.  Now, 
since  I  may  say  "I  see  their  arrival,"  there  is  a  tendency 
to  substitute  for  the  substantival  phrase  the  semantically 
equivalent  verbal  phrase,  and  say  "I  see  they  are  com- 
ing." In  the  same  way  such  sentences  as  "I  know  it," 
"I  know  that,"  induce  the  sentence  "I  know  they  are 
coming."  The  process  may  be  superficially  described  as 
the  substitution  of  a  sentence  for  a  pronoun  or  for  a  sub- 
stantival phrase.  But  psychologically  it  is  a  perfectly 
regular  bit  of  analogical  creation,  which  may  be  dia- 
grammed thus:  "their  arrival":  "I  see  their  arrival "  = 
"they  are  coming":  "I  see  they  are  coming";  "it": 
"I  know  it"  =  " they  are  coming":  "I  know  they  are 
coming."  Latin  wlo  eas  is  due  to  such  sentences  as 


134  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

volo  hoc,  where  the  antecedent  of  hoc  is  eas.1  In  case  the 
antecedent  of  hoc  is  ne  eas,  the  resulting  sentence  is 
volo  ne  eas.  Similarly,  on  the  basis  of  hoc  rogatur,  ne  eas 
becomes  the  subject  of  the  sentence  ne  eas  rogatur. 

Sometimes  the  substitution  of  a  sentence  for  a 
substantive  leads  to  the  development  of  a  conjunction. 
In  the  sentence  ne  eas  rogatur,  ne  is  a  conjunction  as  well 
as  a  negative  adverb.  English  "before"  was  originally 
a  preposition,  as  in  the  sentence  "I  came  before  sun- 
rise"; but  when  a  sentence  is  substituted  for  the  word 
"sunrise"  ("I  came  before  the  sun  rose"),  "before"  is  a 
conjunction. 

Many  scholars  suppose  that  such  complex  sentences 
as  these  have  developed  from  a  simple  fusing  together  of 
two  originally  independent  sentences:  "I  came  before; 
the  sun  rose,"  and  then  "I  came  before  the  sun  rose"; 
volo;  eas,  and  then  volo  eas.  The  difficulty  with  this 
theory  is  that  the  start-forms  are  scarcely  credible;  one 
would  rather  say,  "I  came;  afterward  the  sun  rose," 
and  eas;  hoc  volo. 

Nevertheless  there  are  complex  sentences  whose 
basis  is  to  be  found  in  pairs  of  independent,  or,  as  they 
are  commonly  called,  paratactic  sentences.  "I  know 
that  men  are  mortal"  goes  back  to  a  paratactic  type, 
such  as  "I  know  that;  men  are  mortal."  The  process 
by  which  these  grammatically  independent  sentences 

'The  type  may  have  developed  in  connection  with  some  other 
verb,  say,  advenias,  or  with  some  other  substantive,  say,  advenlum;  but 
the  process  can  scarcely  have  been  essential  ly  different  from  the  one 
sketched  above.  Morris'  contention  (Principles  and  Methods  in  Latin 
Syntax,  pp.  132  fl.)  that  volo  is  a  mere  appendage  to  the  sentence  eas 
for  the  purpose  of  emphasizing  one  element  of  that  sentence,  is  correct 
enough,  but  it  does  not  explain  the  change  of  function  in  the  sentence  eas. 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  135 

came  to  be  felt  as  a  single  sentence  may  be  super- 
ficially described  as  a  gradual  change  from  parataxis 
to  hypotaxis.  The  dynamic  factor,  however,  is  the 
associative  interference  of  such  simple  sentences  as 
"I  know  men,"  "I  know  the  mortality  of  men,"  in 
which  all  that  follows  the  verb  is  felt  as  the  direct  object. 
Latin  sentences,  such  as  vereor  ne  advenias,  must  have 
developed  from  the  paratactic  type  vereor;  ne  advenias, 
where  vereor  was  either  intransitive  or  elliptical  for 
vereor  te.  The  we-clause  came  to  be  felt  as  the  object  of 
vereor  through  associative  interference  by  such  simple 
sentences  as  vereor  te,  vereor  adventum,  vereor  hoc. 

Analogy  based  on  functional  association  also  is  a 
factor  in  syntactic  change.  The  loss  of  inflectional 
syllables  in  the  English  noun  has  left  but  one  form  to 
serve  as  dative  and  accusative,  that  is,  as  indirect  and 
direct  object;  but  in  the  masculine  of  the  third  personal 
pronoun  the  Anglo-Saxon  dative  him  and  accusative  hine 
should  according  to  phonetic  law  yield  "him"  and 
*hin,  respectively.  The  dative  form  has  come  to  be 
used  as  direct  object  from  the  analogy  of  the  noun ;  the 
dative  "him"  and  all  noun-forms  serving  for  indirect 
object  formed  a  functional  association  group,  and  so 
"him"  acquired  an  additional  function  possessed  by  the 
noun-forms.  Latin  utor  regularly  governs  the  ablative, 
although  it  has  come  to  have  a  sense  as  fully  "  transitive  " 
as  that  of  capio;  the  inevitable  association  with  such 
verbs  as  capio  gives  us  the  accusative  after  utor  in 
colloquial  Latin. 

Just  as  similarity  of  form  may  assimilate  the  meaning 
of  two  words,  so  it  may  assimilate  their  functions. 
When  -ly  became  the  recognized  termination  of  the 


136  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

English  adverbs,  original  adjectives,  like  "daily," 
"yearly,"  acquired  adverbial  function.  We  still  speak 
of  "a  daily  paper,"  but  we  now  say  also,  "The  paper 
is  published  daily."  The  nominative  and  accusative 
plural  of  neuter  0-stems — neuters  of  the  second  declen- 
sion, to  use  the  term  of  Latin  grammar — was  originally 
not  a  plural  at  all,  but  a  feminine  singular  with  collective 
meaning;  templa  was  a  first-declension  noun  governing 
a  singular  verb  but  meaning  "collection  of  temples." 
By  functional  analogy  with  genuine  plurals  templa 
assumed  the  plural  inflection  and  came  to  govern  a 
plural  verb.  In  Greek  these  collective  a-stems  took  the 
plural  inflection,  but  continued  to  govern  a  singluar  verb. 
Now,  by  the  operation  of  phonetic  laws  and  some 
analogical  changes,  the  genuine  neuter  plurals  of  con- 
sonant stems  and  i-  and  w-stems  came  to  have  in  Greek 
the  same  ending  as  our  collectives.  At  that  stage,  of 
course,  the  whole  group  was  associated  on  the  basis  of 
function  (for  they  all  designated  more  than  one  individ- 
ual) and  also  on  the  basis  of  similarity  of  form.  Accord- 
ingly a  combination  of  functional  and  formal  analogy 
led  to  the  use  of  a  singular  verb  with  the  genuine  neuter 
plurals. 

A  change  in  the  reverse  direction,  but  resulting  from 
the  same  cause,  is  to  be  seen  in  Latin  and  the  Romance 
languages.  A  number  of  Greek  neuters  whose  nomina- 
tive singular  ended  in  a  were  borrowed  by  the  Romans, 
for  example,  dogma,  schisma.  Since  they  had  the  same 
ending  as  feminines  of  the  first  declension,  they  were 
sometimes  accompanied  by  feminine  adjectives  in  Latin. 
In  Latin  feminine  singular  and  neuter  plural  show  the 
same  ending  in  the  nominative,  and,  after  final  m  was 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  137 

lost  in  late  popular  Latin,  in  the  accusative  too.  Hence 
several  Latin  neuter  plurals  have  become  feminine 
singular  in  the  Romance  languages,  for  example,  French 
verve  " inspiration "  from verba;  saussaie  "willow  thicket " 
from  saliceta;  esquisse  "sketch"  from  schedia. 

Change  of  Form 

Since  the  unit  of  speech  is  the  sentence,  sound-change 
must  affect,  not  words,  but  sentences.  Anglo-Saxon 
an  "one"  when  accented  regularly  became  one,  and  we 
still  retain  that  spelling,  although  the  spoken  language 
has  borrowed  the  dialectic  form  wun,  except  in  the 
compounds  "only,"  "alone,"  and  "atone";  but,  when 
used  without  accent  as  the  indefinite  article,  an  was  not 
subject  to  the  change  of  a  to  J,  and  we  have  an  today 
(with  shortening  and  a  shift  of  the  vowel  in  the  direction 
of  e).  Such  variation  as  this  belongs  to  the  topic  of 
sentence  phonetics.  Since  it  differs  only  in  detail  from 
the  types  of  sound-change  already  described,  we  need 
not  discuss  it  further. 

We  must,  however,  notice  some  effects  which  sound- 
change  has  upon  the  relation  of  words  to  one  another  and 
upon  the  structure  of  the  sentence.  A  phonetic  law 
sometimes  obliterates  the  distinction  between  two 
syntactic  categories.  Anglo-Saxon  had  a  dative  case 
which  usually  differed  in  form  from  the  accusative; 
where  Modern  English  has  but  one  form,  as  "mouth"  or 
"bone,"  Anglo-Saxon  had  two,  for  example,  dative 
mufie  and  bane,  accusative  muff  and  ban.  The  loss  of 
final  e  made  the  two  cases  identical  in  form,  with  the 
result  that  we  no  longer  feel  any  clear  distinction  between 
dative  and  accusative  constructions,  between  direct  and 


138  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

indirect  object.  "I  give  him  the  book"  has  two  equally 
correct  passives:  "He  is  given  the  book"  and  "The 
book  is  given  (to)  him."  Sound-change  is  a  chief  cause 
for  the  loss  of  inflection  in  the  Romance  languages  and 
Modern  English,  and  it  is  therefore  in  part  responsible 
for  the  new  devices  which  these  languages  use  to  express 
the  relations  between  words.  The  Latin  sentence 
filium  amat  vir  cannot  be  translated  into  English  in  the 
Latin  order  (without  a  change  in  construction),  because 
English  has  lost  the  original  case  endings  of  both  nomina- 
tive and  accusative  and  has  come  to  denote  the  relations 
of  subject  and  object  by  means  of  their  position  in  the 
sentence;  we  must  place  the  subject  before  the  verb  and 
the  object  after:  "The  man  loves  his  son."  Again,  the 
Latin  phrase  of  two  words  igne  interfectus  has  to  be 
translated  by  a  phrase  of  three  words  "killed  by  fire"; 
what  Latin  expresses  by  the  ablative  case  English 
expresses  by  a  preposition. 

This  same  loss  of  inflectional  syllables  may  leave  a 
noun  and  a  verb  identical  in  form.  In  Anglo-Saxon 
there  was  a  noun  lufu  "love"  and  a  verb  lufie  "I  love," 
a  noun  earn  "care"  and  a  verb  carie  "I  care,"  a  noun 
help  and  a  verb  helpe.  In  Modern  English  each  of  these 
pairs  has  yielded  a  single  form,  "love,"  "care,"  "help," 
which  does  duty  both  as  noun  and  as  verb.  The  same 
thing  has  happened  to  a  great  many  other  pairs,  and 
on  the  analogy  of  these  we  sometimes  make  a  verb 
serve  as  a  noun  without  change  of  form,  and  almost 
any  noun  may  serve  as  a  verb.  Thus  we  say  not 
only  "to  pull,"  but  also  "the  pull";  both  "to  search" 
and  "the  search";  both  "to  kill"  and  "the  kill."  The 
noun  "pump"  yields  the  verb  "pump";  when  we  put 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  139 

a  man  into  "jail"  we  are  said  to  "jail"  him.  The 
noun  "suspicion"  is  used  by  many  people  as  a  verb  in 
place  of  "suspect." 

Change  of  Meaning — Shift  of  Emphasis 

We  have  seen  (pages  86  ff.)  that  the  meaning  of  a 
word  varies  considerably  according  to  the  circumstances 
under  which  it  is  spoken  and  the  character  of  the  rest 
of  the  sentence.  This  shift  of  emphasis  from  one  part 
of  a  word's  signification  to  another  very  often  affects 
its  function  in  the  sentence.  German  sehr  once  meant 
"sorely"  and  was  used  as  an  intensive  in  phrases  similar 
to  the  archaic  English  "sore  wounded,"  "sore  afraid." 
Increasing  emphasis  upon  the  intensive  function  led  to 
the  total  loss  of  the  original  word-meaning,  and  so  such 
phrases  as  sehr  angenehm,  sehr  gut,  became  possible. 
The  colloquial  English  intensives  "awful"  and  "awfully" 
are  of  similar  origin.  It  requires  only  a  slight  shift  of 
meaning  to  change  a  noun  in  apposition  into  an  adjective. 
Caesar  (E.G.  vii.  20)  writes  exercitum  victorem  for 
"victorious  army."  .Latin  habeo  sometimes  has  its 
ordinary  meaning  when  followed  by  a  perfect  participle, 
as  in  Caesar  aciem  instmctam  habuit  "Caesar  kept  his 
line  drawn  up";  but  a  very  slight  shift  of  emphasis 
gives  the  meaning  "had  drawn  up."  Consequently,  we 
find  as  early  as  Plautus  (Ps.  602)  ilia  omnia  missa  habeo 
"  I've  dropped  all  that."  This  use  of  habeo  became  more 
common  in  late  Latin  and  yielded  the  auxiliary  verb  of 
French  j'ai  mis,  etc.  The  same  verb  in  combination 
with  an  infinitive  has  yielded  the  French  future  (scribere 
habeo  became  ecrirai} ;  the  difference  in  meaning  between 
Cicero's  (Alt.  ii.  22.  6)  nihil  habeo  scribere  and  French 


140  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

je  n'tcrirai  rien  is  due  to  emphasis  of  the  idea  of  futurity, 
which  was  implicit  from  the  start. 

In  all  the  foregoing  cases  a  loss  of  word-meaning  has 
gone  hand  in  hand  with  an  increase  of  emphasis  on 
function.  In  this  way  originate  most  auxiliary  verbs, 
prepositions,  and  conjunctions — words  whose  meaning 
is  too  intangible  to  be  accurately  denned,  but  to  which 
nevertheless  our  modern  European  speech  owes  much 
of  its  clarity  and  definiteness.  English  "around," 
and  "away"  represent  an  easy  shift  from  the  phrases 
"on  round"  and  "on  way."  The  Latin  preposition 
causa  is  a  case-form  of  a  noun,  and  infra  of  an  adjective. 
The  English  preposition  "save"  (Tennyson,  "Who 
should  be  king  save  him")  is  in  origin  an  imperative. 
English  "may"  develops  from  "He  may  [that  is,  is 
permitted  to]  go"  into  "It  may  rain." 

In  addition  to  the  ordinary  plural  nouns  most 
languages  have  a  number  of  collective  nouns  which  are 
singular  in  form.  That  Latin  multiludo,  English 
"crowd,"  etc.,  are  virtually  plurals  appears  from  the  fact 
that  they  tend  to  govern  plural  verbs,  as  when  Shake- 
speare writes,  "The  army  of  the  queen  mean  to  besiege 
us,"  or  when  Livy  writes,  "pars  perexigua  .... 
detail  sunt."  "Fleet"  and  "ship,"  therefore,  are 
identical  in  meaning,  except  for  the  element  of  number. 
The  change  from  specific  meaning  to  collective  and  from 
collective  to  specific  involves  but  a  shift  of  emphasis. 
The  change  of  specific  to  collective  is  seen  in  English 
"verse"  "a  line  of  poetry"  and  then  "poetry,"  as  in  the 
phrase  "prose  and  verse."  Latin  miles  means  "soldier" 
and  also  "soldiery,  body  of  soldiers,"  and  in  the  same 
way  pedes  sometimes  means  "infantry"  and  eques, 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  141 

"cavalry."  The  change  from  collective  meaning  to 
specific  is  illustrated  by  English  "youth"  which,  as 
we  saw  above  (page  92),  came  to  be  a  collective  noun 
through  the  figure  of  synecdoche.  By  the  process  which 
we  are  now  examining  the  collective  noun  "youth" 
("those  who  are  young")  becomes  the  specific  noun 
"youth"  ("a  young  person")  which  may  even  make  a 
plural  "youths." 

Clauses,  like  words,  include  a  large  number  of  ideas, 
any  one  of  which  may  receive  the  emphasis.  The 
clause  "when  the  sun  rises"  denotes  time,  and  also  tells 
the  circumstances  under  which  the  main  statement  is 
true.  If  I  say,  "Every  day  when  the  sun  rises  he  is 
already  at  work,"  both  time  and  circumstances  are 
prominently  expressed.  In  the  sentence  "When  the 
sun  rises,  it  grows  light"  our  knowledge  of  the  causal 
relation  between  the  clauses  leads  us  to  interpret  "when" 
as  "when  and  because."  In  the  sentence  "When  the 
sun  rises,  the  valleys  are  still  in  darkness"  the  same 
knowledge  leads  us  to  feel  "when"  as  equivalent  to 
"when  and  although."  In  the  English  when-clauses 
the  idea  of  time  is  always  present,  no  matter  how 
prominent  any  other  idea  may  become,  and  accord- 
ingly we  have  no  real  change  in  meaning.  In  the 
since-clauses,  however,  the  idea  of  time  is  frequently 
lost.  In  the  sentence  "Since  the  sun  has  risen,  it  is 
light"  we  may  or  may  not  think  of  the  clause  as 
expressing  time;  but  in  the  sentence  "Since  the  sun  will 
rise,  we  prepare  for  work"  no  idea  of  time  is  possible. 
Concession  rather  than  cause  is  the  prevailing  secondary 
meaning  of  the  temporal  sentence  with  "while,"  for 
example,  "While  then  it  was  night,  now  it  is  day." 


142  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

The  so-called  absolute  constructions  have  arisen 
from  a  shift  of  emphasis  in  the  meaning  of  a  phrase. 
The  Latin  ablative  absolute  originally  expressed  accom- 
paniment; omnibus  rebus  comparatis  iter  fecerunt  origi- 
nally meant  "taking  with  them  all  the  things  which  they 
had  prepared,  they  marched."  But  the  ablative  phrase 
expressed  situation  as  well  as  accompaniment,  and  with 
a  slight  shift  of  emphasis  it  came  to  mean  "with  every- 
thing prepared"  (that  is,  everything  being  ready).1 

When  a  phrase  sinks  to  the  position  of  a  mark  of 
function,  that  is,  becomes  a  conjunction  or  a  preposition, 
it  becomes  a  compound  word  (see  pages  no  f.).  The 
locution  "on  account  of"  had  reference  to  a  column  in  a 
ledger  as  long  as  it  continued  to  be  a  phrase;  when  it 
lost  all  concrete  suggestion  and  came  to  be  merely  the 
equivalent  of  Latin  propter,  it  became  a  compound  word, 
although  we  still  write  it  as  three  words.  Since  "never- 
theless" has  ceased  to  suggest  negation  or  time  or 
comparison,  we  wisely  write  it  as  one  word. 

A  shift  of  emphasis  is  sometimes  the  dynamic  factor 
in  the  development  of  a  subordinate  clause  from  a 
paratactic  clause.  The  process  may  be  illustrated  by 
the  idiomatic  German  sentences,  such  as  Es  war  einmal 
ein  Mann,  der  hattc  drei  Tochter,  where  der  must  be 
called  a  demonstrative  and  its  clause  paratactic,  since 
true  subordination  would  require  the  transposed  order, 
der  drci  Tochter  hatte.  A  somewhat  better  example  is 
furnished  by  Homeric  Greek,  which  does  not  distinguish 
by  word-order  between  dependent  and  independent 
clauses:  'Air6\\ooj>i  CLVCLKTI,  rov  TJUKO/ZQS  TCKC  A^TOJ,  "to 

1  Other  ablative  constructions  may  have  contributed  to  the  ablative 
absolute,  but  the  process  must  have  been  essentially  the  same  in  all  cases. 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  143 

Apollo  the  lord;  him  fair-haired  Leto  bore."  No  one 
can  say  whether  it  is  better  to  translate  the  originally 
demonstrative  rbv  with  "him,"  as  we  have  done,  or 
with  "whom,"  as  is  customary,  for  the  sole  difference 
between  the  two  is  one  of  emphasis.  In  either  case 
the  antecedent  of  the  pronoun  is  'ATroXXowt  in  the  main 
clause;  if  the  connection  between  the  two  is  felt  to  be 
relatively  loose,  rbv  is  a  demonstrative;  if  they  are  felt 
to  be  closely  tied  together,  rbv  is  a  relative  as  it  surely 
is  in  many  passages.  It  is  probably  in  about  this  way 
that  demonstratives  have  become  relatives  in  various 
languages;  for  example,  Anglo-Saxon  3e,  Sanskrit  yds, 
Greek  6s,  Old  Persian  hya. 

More  Specific  Meaning  Due  to  a  Modifier 

The  simplification  of  a  phrase  like  "flesh  meat"  by 
the  loss  of  one  of  its  elements  (see  page  92)  may  involve 
a  change  of  function.  Latin  stativus  is  an  adjective;  but 
stativa  "permanent  camp,"  abbreviated  from  the  phrase 
stativa  castra,  is  a  noun.  English  "  third  "  is  an  adjective, 
but  in  a  phrase  like  "one  third,"  where  it  stands  for 
"third  part,"  it  is  a  noun.  Here  belongs  the  use  so 
common  in  inflected  languages  of  an  adjective  as  a 
noun,  for  example,  Latin  boni,  bona,  perditi,  sacra, 
Greek  prjropiK-f],  whence  English  "rhetoric." 

More  General  Meaning  Due  to  a  Pleonastic  Modifier 

In  the  primitive  Indo-European  language  the  accusa- 
tive seems  to  have  been  freely  used  to  denote  end  of 
motion,  as  in  Latin  domum  it.  The  accusative,  however, 
had  other  uses  also,  and  the  function  of  the  case  might 
be  made  clearer  by  an  accompanying  adverb  of  direction. 


144  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Thus  (to  use  Latin  forms  in  place  of  Indo-European) 
mrum  eo  "to  the  man  I  go"  became  virum  eo  ad  "to  the 
man  I  go  toward."  In  the  latter  sentence  the  relation 
between  noun  and  verb  is  fully  expressed  by  ad,  and 
there  is  left  for  virum  no  functional  force,  but  only  the 
word-meaning  (cf.  pages  93  f.).  In  Latin  we  find  the 
change  completed  for  such  words  as  vir;  ad  may  no 
longer  be  omitted.  Now,  an  interesting  result  of  this 
process  is  its  effect  on  the  adverb  of  direction.  As  the 
adverb  gradually  usurps  the  functional  force  of  the  case, 
it  comes  to  be  felt  more  and  more  as  an  adjunct  of  the 
noun  rather  than  of  the  verb;  that  is,  the  adverb 
becomes  a  preposition.  In  Indo-European  and  also 
in  the  earliest  Sanskrit  and  Greek,  prepositions  were 
somewhat  like  the  German  adverb  hinauf  in  Er  stieg  den 
Berg  hinauf,  while  the  developed  prepositions  of  later 
times  are  more  like  English  "up"  in  "he  climbed  up  the 
mountain."  Even  in  Latin  such  a  pair  of  sentences  as 
flumen  ineo  and  in  jhimen  eo  shows  that  we  are  but  one 
step  removed  from  the  use  of  in  as  an  adverb;  the 
position  of  the  word  has  scarcely  become  fixed. 

The  same  process  weakens  the  personal  forms  of 
verbs  until  they  must  have  a  subject  expressed  by  a 
separate  word.  Latin  respondit  meant  "he  replied." 
It  was  possible,  however,  to  express  a  pronominal 
subject,  such  as  is  or  ille;  and  the  pleonasm  finally 
deprived  the  verb-form  of  its  personal  force.  Hence  in 
French  the  expression  is  il  repondit. 

Figures  of  Speech 

Metonymy  often  leads  to  a  change  in  the  relation 
between  two  words.  The  sentence  "The  cistern  is 


CHANGE  IN  SYNTAX  145 

running  dry"  is  due  to  the  use  of  the  word  "cistern"  to 
stand  for  the  water  in  it.  Similarly,  when  we  say  "The 
river  is  running  over,"  we  are  really  talking  about  some 
of  the  water  of  the  river.  Sometimes  the  result  of  such 
a  change  is  really  nonsense,  as  when  we  say  "The  kettle 
boils."  The  syntactic  result  of  the  metonymy  in  these 
instances  is  a  changed  relation  between  the  verb  and  its 
subject. 

Metonymy  expressed  by  an  adjective  is  usually  called 
"transferred  epithet."  In  using  the  phrase  "wicked 
ways,"  we  do  not  blame  the  "ways"  but  the  people  who 
walk  in  them;  and  the  result  is  a  new  relationship 
between  the  adjective  "wicked"  and  its  noun.  A 
transferred  epithet  usually  ascribes  an  attribute  of 
personality  to  an  inanimate  object,  but  still  without  any 
thought  of  personification.  Carlyle  speaks  of  "ambi- 
tious Latin"  without  implying  that  language  can  feel 
ambition.  No  one  imagines  that  a  "happy  event"  en- 
joys itself,  or  that  a  "learned  treatise"  has  studied  much. 


CHAPTER  VII 
LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT 

Change  results  in  diversity.  Just  as  the  evolution 
of  animals  and  plants  may  split  one  species  into  several, 
so  the  changes  to  which  language  is  subject  are  constantly 
producing  divergences  in  speech  between  persons  or 
communities  who  have  hitherto  spoken  alike.  Such 
divergences  may  be  of  any  extent,  from  a  variation  in 
word-meaning  or  pronunciation  to  such  differences  as 
prevent  mutual  understanding  or  even  to  a  fundamen- 
tal unlikeness  of  linguistic  structure.  The  resulting 
varieties  of  speech  are  commonly  called  dialects  or 
languages,  and  these  terms  require  definition. 

We  usually  think  of  a  dialect  as  homogeneous — as 
a  body  of  speech  which  does  not  contain  varieties  within 
itself — tout  such  a  definition  would  compel  us  to  set  up 
a  dialect  for  each  speaker,  since  the  fact  that  we  can 
distinguish  our  friends  by  voice  proves  that  each  one 
speaks  in  a  way  of  his  own.  Furthermore,  the  speech 
of  each  individual  varies  at  different  times  in  his  life, 
and  so  we  should  have  to  assume  several  dialects  for 
each  speaker.  A  more  satisfactory  definition  is  this: 
a  dialect  is  a  body  of  speech  which  does  not  contain 
within  itself  any  differences  that  are  commonly  perceived 
as  such  by  its  users.  The  unity  of  a  dialect  is  a  unity, 
not  of  sounds  produced,  but  of  sounds  perceived;  it  is 
subjective  rather  than  objective.  The  only  sure  way, 
then,  to  determine  whether  or  not  two  men  use  the  same 
dialect  is  to  appeal  to  the  men  themselves  and  to  their 

146 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  147 

neighbors.  It  follows  that  a  dialect  is  a  concrete  fact. 
Each  utterance  of  each  speaker  of  the  dialect  is,  as  far 
as  it  goes,  identical  with  the  dialect  itself;  for  by  the 
definition  the  various  utterances  of  the  several  speakers 
are  not  perceptibly  different. 

A  number  of  dialects  grouped  together  on  the  basis 
of  certain  similarities  which  they  possess  as  against  other 
dialects  is  called  a  language.  A  language,  therefore,  is 
an  abstraction.  A  momentary  utterance  is  not  likely  to 
be  identical  with  the  whole  group  of  dialects;  for,  while 
it  may  contain  characteristics  which  are  common  to 
the  several  dialects,  it  is  likely  to  contain  other  elements 
which  are  peculiar  to  some  one  dialect. 

Linguistic  Variation 

In  case  there  is  a  cessation  of  intercourse  between 
two  parts  of  a  linguistic  community,  each  of  the  parts 
is  subject  to  linguistic  changes  in  which  the  other  does 
not  share,  and  the  two  resulting  dialects  tend  to  drift 
farther  and  farther  apart.  Such  a  division  of  a  lin- 
guistic community  most  frequently  results  from  a 
migration  to  a  region  that  is  not  easily  accessible  from  the 
mother-country.  Pennsylvania  "Dutch"  differs  from 
standard  German,  partly  because  it  has  been  influenced 
by  English,  but  chiefly  because  its  speakers  have  been 
cut  off  from  direct  contact  with  Germany.  When 
Anglo-Saxon  was  carried  to  England,  it  was  removed 
entirely  from  the  influence  of  the  other  Teutonic  lan- 
guages until  the  Danish  invasions;  and  after  the  Danes 
ceased  their  inroads,  contact  between  English  and  the 
related  idioms  was  scarcely  re-established  until  recent 
times. 


148  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Sometimes,  however,  the  isolation  of  a  group  of 
speakers  is  incomplete;  some  changes  spread  across 
the  border,  while  others  are  stopped.  In  spite  of  the 
distance  between  them,  the  separation  of  America  from 
England  is  of  this  character;  for  numerous  innovations 
cross  the  Atlantic  in  both  directions.  English  "exam" 
has  long  been  familiar  in  American  schools,  while 
"slacker"  and  "do  one's  bit"  have  just  now  been 
naturalized  in  the  United  States.  "To  make  good"  is 
an  Americanism  which  has  become  current  in  England. 

Even  without  any  interruption  of  intercourse  there  is 
usually  more  or  less  linguistic  variation  within  a  com- 
munity. In  complex  civilizations  differences  in  wealth, 
education,  and  occupation  always  divide  society  into 
classes,  and  linguistic  changes  tend  to  be  restricted  to  the 
class  which  originates  them.  Every  trade  has  its  peculiar 
slang,  and  every  social  stratum  makes  use  of  certain 
words,  meanings,  and  syntactic  constructions  which  are 
not  approved  by  the  next  stratum  above  it.  Not 
infrequently  a  phonetic  law  is  confined  to  a  class,  as  is  the 
New  York  pronunciation  of  "bird"  as  "boid."  The 
more  shaq>ly  castes  are  divided,  the  wider  the  linguistic 
division  between  them  is  likely  to  be.  In  some  savage 
tribes  there  are  considerable  differences  between  the 
speech  of  women  and  of  men,  owing  chiefly  to  a  relative 
isolation  of  the  sexes.  Nearly  everywhere  there  are 
some  differences  between  the  speech  of  the  old  and  the 
young,  and  such  differences  may  be  rather  extensive. 

But  the  isolation  of  classes  can  never  be  complete, 
even  in  a  country  where  the  higher  classes  speak  a 
language  entirely  different  from  that  of  the  lower  classes, 
as  was  the  case  in  England  for  some  centuries  after  the 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  149 

Norman  conquest;  for  the  lower  classes  are  the  servants 
of  the  higher,  and  the  giving  and  receiving  of  orders 
involves  linguistic  intercourse.  It  is  scarcely  possible 
for  a  language  to  split  into  two  mutually  unintelligible 
class  dialects,  unless  one  of  the  two  is  an  artificially  fixed 
literary  language,  whose  speakers  employ  the  vernacular 
also. 

Even  where  there  is  no  interruption  of  intercourse 
within  a  community,  many  linguistic  changes  fail  to 
cover  the  entire  area.  We  have  already  discussed 
(page  77)  the  loss  of  r  before  a  consonant  which  has 
spread  from  New  England  over  New  York  City  and  a 
small  part  of  New  Jersey.  It  may  ultimately  cover  the 
entire  country,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  may  never 
reach  far  beyond  its  present  bounds.  There  are  many 
other  changes  which  are  limited  to  certain  parts  of  the 
United  States,  as  the  southern  ah  (a)  for  *  (ai),  or 
the  use  of  the  word  "coal  oil"  west  of  the  Delaware 
River  and  south  of  Lake  Erie,  whereas  "kerosene"  is 
used  to  the  east  and  north. 

Linguistic  changes  may  originate  at  any  point  in  a 
linguistic  area,  and  each  of  them  tends  to  spread  out- 
ward from  its  point  of  origin.  In  the  accompanying 
diagram  the  numbered  circles  indicate  the  territory 
covered  by  each  of  six  linguistic  changes,  and  the  letters 
indicate  some  of  the  resulting  varieties  of  speech,  that 
is,  dialects.  It  is  evident  that  dialect  A  differs  from 
dialect  I  only  in  that  the  latter  has  not  suffered  the 
linguistic  change  5.  n  differs  from  A  in  the  same 
respect  and  also  in  that  it  has  suffered  the  linguistic 
change  3.  o  is  still  farther  removed  from  A,  since  it 
has  not  shared  in  the  linguistic  change  6.  p  lacks  also 


LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 


the  change  4;  it  has  not  suffered  any  of  the  changes  seen 
in  A.  q  differs  still  more  from  A,  since  it  has  been 
affected  by  the  change  i.  Lastly,  B  has  been  still  more 
differentiated  from  A  on  account  of  the  change  2.  We 
have  then  a  series  of  intermediate  dialects  between 
A  and  B. 


It  sometimes  happens  that  such  a  state  of  affairs  is 
disturbed  by  the  dying  out  of  the  intermediate  dialects 
and  the  spread  of  the  two  extremes  over  their  territory. 
A  might  spread  over  the  territory  of  /,  m,  n,  and  o,  the 
dialects  most  similar  to  itself,  and  B  might  likewise 
absorb  p  and  q.  The  result  would  be  two  sharply 
distinguished  dialects  bordering  upon  each  other  along 
the  dotted  line.  The  dialects  of  Northern  France 
(French  dialects,  properly  so  called)  formerly  shaded 
gradually  into  the  Provencal  dialects  of  the  South. 
Today  the  intermediate  dialects  have  disappeared  along 
parts  of  the  border,  leaving  French  and  Provencal  in 
direct  contact. 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  151 

Sometimes  dialectic  peculiarities  grow  up  on  account 
of  the  fact  that  one  portion  of  a  linguistic  community 
is  influenced  by  another  language  or  dialect.  Dialect 
mixture  of  this  sort  occurs  in  three  cases. 

If  a  people  speaking  one  language  is  subjugated  by  a 
people  speaking  another  language,  two  languages  are 
likely  to  be  used  in  the  country  for  some  time.  But 
finally  one  or  the  other  of  them  gives  way,  not,  however, 
without  leaving  traces  of  itself.  English  has  driven  out 
Norman-French,  but  has  itself  been  strongly  modified. 
Latin  has  supplanted  the  languages  that  were  its  rivals 
in  Gaul — both  Celtic  and  Germanic — but  French  shows 
traces  of  them  both. 

Extensive  immigration  of  a  peaceful  character 
produces  the  same  result  more  rapidly,  since  no  feeling 
of  hostility  divides  the  two  nationalities.  This  is  the 
case  with  many  of  the  foreign  communities  in  the  United 
States,  such  as  the  Pennsylvania  "Dutch,"  the  Swedes 
of  Minnesota  and  Dakota,  the  Germans  of  Milwaukee 
and  other  cities,  the  Lithuanians  of  Chicago,  the  Russian 
Jews  of  New  York,  and  many  others.  There  is  a 
tendency  for  these  various  groups  to  develop  mixed 
dialects,  not  a  few  of  which  have  been  employed  by 
writers  of  fiction,  as  in  Myra  Kelly's  stories  of  the  East 
Side.  Still,  no  one  of  the  foreign  languages  that  has 
been  brought  into  the  United  States  is  spoken  by  a 
large  enough  proportion  of  the  population  to  enable  it 
appreciably  to  modify  American  English.  The  children 
of  foreign-born  parents  in  America  rid  themselves  as 
fully  as  they  can,  not  only  of  their  parents'  native  idiom, 
but  also  of  the  modified  English  which  marks  the  first 
step  toward  naturalization.  This  constantly  recurring 


152  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

process  has  left  only  a  few  traces,  such  as  the  loan-words 
"smear-case"  and  "kosher"  and  perhaps  the  rather 
extensive  pronunciation  of  d  and  /  for  th. 

If  two  linguistic  areas  border  upon  each  other  and 
no  impassable  natural  barrier  cuts  off  intercourse  between 
them,  most  of  the  people  along  the  border  are  familiar 
with  both  languages.  They  may  keep  the  two  reason- 
ably distinct  with  only  an  occasional  borrowed  word,  and 
this  seems  to  be  the  usual  state  of  affairs  in  civilized 
countries,  probably  because  the  relations  with  other 
portions  of  the  two  linguistic  areas  are  very  close. 
Sometimes,  however,  mixed  dialects  grow  up  along  the 
border,  and  these  are  known  as  contact  languages. 
Such,  probably,  was  the  origin  of  the  Hausa  language  of 
the  central  Soudan,  which  seems  to  be  a  fusion  of  a 
language  akin  to  the  Berber  dialects  of  North  Africa, 
and  some  language  or  languages  of  the  South  African 
Bantu  family. 

Since  dialectic  variation  is  caused  solely  by  linguistic 
changes  which  fail  to  spread  over  the  entire  community, 
it  is  clear  that,  if  the  means  of  communication  and  the 
habits  of  travel  remain  constant,  an  increase  in  the  size 
of  the  linguistic  community  increases  the  rate  of  varia- 
tion. Consequently  there  are  more  dialects  in  the  Eng- 
lish of  the  United  States  than  in  the  English  of  British 
America.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  size  of  a  linguistic 
community  remains  constant  the  possibility  of  dialectic 
variation  grows  less  in  proportion  as  the  communica- 
tion between  its  parts  increases.  There  is  probably  less 
tendency  toward  variation  in  American  English  today 
than  there  was  before  the  Civil  War,  in  spite  of  the 
great  increase  in  population. 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  153 

It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  among  savages  dialectic 
variation  is  often  very  great.  Although  the  American 
Indians  are  racially  similar,  their  languages  are  extremely 
diverse;  no  less  than  fifty-five  linguistic  stocks,  as  far 
from  one  another  as  Latin  and  Turkish,  are  found  in 
North  America  north  of  Mexico,  and  many  of  these 
stocks  contain  a  number  of  mutually  unintelligible 
languages.  In  the  Melanesian  Archipelago  every  small 
island  has  its  own  language  or  even  several  languages. 
It  has  been  estimated  that  the  island  of  Celebes  has 
hundreds  of  dialects.  In  the  neighboring  island  of  New 
Guinea  the  dialectic  variety  is  even  greater  and  more 
thoroughgoing.  Shortly  before  their  utter  extinction  the 
Tasmanians,  although  numbering  no  more  than  fifty 
persons,  spoke  four  dialects,  each  with  a  different 
word  for  "ear,"  "eye,"  "head,"  and  other  equally 
common  objects. 

Classification  of  Speech 

Dialects  and  languages  may  be  classified  on  the 
basis  of  resemblances,  but  here,  as  elsewhere,  this 
method  of  classification  leads  us  into  difficulty.  A 
biologist  finds  that  one  animal  resembles  a  second  in 
some  respects  and  a  third  in  others;  with  which  shall  it 
be  classified  ?  So  dialect  A  resembles  dialect  B  in  some 
points,  but  dialect  C  in  others;  how  shall  we  decide 
which  set  of  resemblances  is  the  more  important  ? 
Fortunately,  we  are  often  able  to  adopt  a  more  satis- 
factory system.  If  we  discover  that  A  and  B  have 
resulted  from  the  splitting  of  one  earlier  dialect,  while 
C  was  at  the  earlier  period  quite  as  distinct  as  now,  we 
must  of  course  group  A  and  B  together.  This  genetic 


154  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

method  of  classification  is  usually  preferred  in  case  the 
history  of  the  languages  is  known. 

But  even  this  method  is  not  quite  satisfactory  in  the 
case  of  a  mixed  language.  If  we  call  English  a  Teutonic 
language  we  are  taking  no  account  of  the  enormous 
number  of  Romance  words  which  it  contains.  It  is 
usual  to  reckon  Albanian  as  an  independent  member  of 
the  Indo-European  family;  but  its  Romance  element  is 
far  more  important  than  the  Romance  element  in 
English.  Modern  Persian  is  always  grouped  as  an 
Indo-European  language,  and  yet  its  dictionary  is 
largely  filled  with  Arabic  words.  Where  shall  we  classify 
the  Surinam  Negro-English  of  Dutch  Guiana,  which 
includes  English,  Dutch,  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and 
French?  In  such  cases  it  is  usual  to  make  the  com- 
monest and  most  familiar  words  of  the  language  the 
criterion.  Since  in  English  the  pronouns,  most  of  the 
numerals  and  conjunctions,  and  many  of  the  most 
familiar  nouns  and  verbs  are  Teutonic,  the  language 
itself  is  said  to  be  Teutonic. 

A  further  difficulty  is  caused  by  the  spreading  of 
linguistic  changes  across  dialectic  borders.  The  High 
German  dialects  owe  their  separation  from  Low  German, 
not  to  a  closer  mutual  relationship,  but  to  certain 
comparatively  recent  changes  which  are  common  to  all 
of  them.  Frankish,  in  fact,  is  partly  High  German  and 
partly  Low  German. 

Even  where  genetic  relations  are  clear,  there  is 
sometimes  difficulty  in  classification.  There  was  once 
an  unbroken  series  of  dialects  from  Northern  France  to 
Southern  Italy,  with  no  sharp  demarcation  at  all.  The 
current  classifications  into  French  and  Italian,  or  into 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  155 

French,  Provencal,  Piedmontese,  Tuscan,  etc.,  are  largely 
influenced  by  the  literary  dialects  and  political  divisions. 
It  is  of  course  impossible  to  apply  a  genetic  classifica- 
tion to  languages  that  are  known  only  in  their  present 
form;  savage  languages  must  be  classified  on  the  basis 
of  superficial  resemblances.  Even  here,  however,  one 
should  interpret  the  resemblances  into  genetic  terms  as 
far  as  possible. 

The  Growth  of  Larger  Linguistic  Communities 

When  several  communities  using  different  languages 
or  dialects  have  extensive  dealings  with  one  another  they 
feel  the  need  of  a  common  language.  Unhampered 
intercourse  is  possible  only  in  case  many  members  of 
both  communities  speak  the  same  idiom.  Sometimes 
one  of  the  natural  dialects  comes  to  serve  as  a  common 
dialect,  especially  if  its  speakers  are  predominant  in 
civilization  or  in  political  power.  In  this  way  the  Latin 
dialect  of  Rome  became  the  common  language,  first 
of  Latium,  then  of  Italy,  and  finally  of  large  parts  of 
Europe  and  Africa.  On  the  other  hand,  a  common 
language  may  be  a  mixture  of  elements  taken  from 
several  languages.  The  Pidgin-English  of  the  Chinese 
coast  consists  mainly  of  English  and  Portuguese  words 
pronounced  in  the  Chinese  fashion  and  put  together 
according  to  Chinese  syntax.  Most  common  languages 
lie  between  these  two  extremes.  When  the  dialect  of 
Athens  became  the  common  language  of  all  Greeks  it  was 
somewhat  modified  by  other  dialects,  especially  Ionic, 
but  it  remained  essentially  Attic  after  all. 

A  literary  language  is  a  dialect  that  is  used  for 
literary  purposes.  Among  the  ancient  Greeks  many 


156  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

local  dialects  were  employed  in  this  way.  In  modern 
Europe  one  dialect  of  each  language  is  commonly 
employed  in  literature  and  several  others  are  used 
occasionally  to  get  a  particular  effect  or  to  supply  local 
color.  A  dialect  that  is  used  only  occasionally  in 
literature  is  not  called  a  literary  language;  even  the 
Scotch  of  Robert  Burns  and  J.  M.  Barrie  is  scarcely 
to  be  called  a  literary  language. 

A  literary  language  tends  to  become  a  common 
language,  and  a  common  language  tends  to  become  a 
literary  language.  One  reason  why  Attic  Greek  became 
the  common  language  of  the  Greek  world  was  that  it  had 
a  nobler  and  more  extensive  literature  than  any  other 
Greek  dialect  (with  possibly  one  exception) ;  and,  when 
once  Attic  had  come  to  be  recognized  as  the  common 
language,  it  supplanted  the  other  literary  dialects, 
except  in  certain  kinds  of  poetry  and,  for  a  time,  in  the 
official  documents  of  certain  cities.  In  Luther's  day 
several  German  dialects  possessed  a  literature;  but 
the  court  language  of  Saxony  had  gained  some  currency 
as  a  common  language.  For  this  reason  Luther  chose 
it  for  his  translation  of  the  Bible,  and  that  choice  in 
turn  promoted  the  spread  of  the  Saxon  common  lan- 
guage, until  it  is  today  the  common  language  of  all 
Germans,  not  only  in  the  German  Empire,  but  also  in 
Austria  and  in  Switzerland,  while  Danes,  Norwegians, 
Poles,  Hungarians,  Russians,  and  others  use  it  in  order 
to  reach  a  wider  audience  than  they  can  by  using  their 
native  languages.  Chaucer  chose  the  dialect  of  London 
because  it  was  already  beginning  to  be  used  as  a  common 
language,  and  Chaucer's  example  fixed  that  dialect  as 
the  common  language  of  England.  It  has  now  become 


LANGUAGE  AND  DIALECT  157 

the  common  language  of  communities  living  in  every  one 
of  the  six  continents  and  in  countless  islands.  It  may 
yet  become  the  common  language  of  the  world. 

A  common  language  which  has  come  to  be  used  for 
literary  purposes  tends  to  be  regarded  as  somehow 
superior  to  other  dialects.  Educated  speakers  prefer 
it  to  their  local  dialect,  except  when  speaking  to  their 
neighbors;  soon  the  common  language  is  the  only  one 
taught  in  the  schools,  and  presently  the  use  of  the  local 
dialect  for  any  purpose  is  a  mark  of  boorishness.  For  a 
time  after  Attic  Greek  became  the  common  and  literary 
language  of  the  Greek  world,  natives  of  Dorian  cities 
continued  to  talk  Doric;  but  as  early  as  the  time  of 
Theocritus  Doric  speech  was  considered  a  mark  of 
inferior  caste  in  the  cosmopolitan  city  of  Alexandria. 
Ultimately  Doric  ceased  to  be  spoken  at  all  except  in 
Laconia,  where  it  survives  today  in  the  Zaconian  dialect 
of  Modern  Greek. 

A  dialect  which  imposes  itself  upon  the  speakers  of 
other  dialects  is  called  a  standard  language.  The  great 
common  and  literary  languages  of  modern  Europe  are 
all  standard  languages.  The  English  of  London,  adopted 
by  Chaucer  and  most  writers  since  his  day,  is  taught  in 
the  schools  of  all  Britain.  The  old  local  dialects  survive, 
but  educated  people  do  not  speak  them  except  to  a 
certain  extent  in  Scotland.  Even  in  the  colonies  and 
in  America  the  standard  language  does  not  differ  much 
from  that  of  England.  Until  a  few  decades  ago  educated 
people  in  several  parts  of  Germany  used  dialect  in 
everyday  life,  although  they  wrote  standard  High 
German  and  spoke  it  on  formal  occasions;  but  the  literary 
language  is  imposing  itself  with  constantly  increasing 


158  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

rigor  upon  ever  wider  and  lower  circles  of  the  people. 
There  is  a  similar  state  of  affairs  in  France  and  in  Italy. 
Greece  is  just  starting  on  the  same  road,  but  the  Greeks 
have  undertaken  to  use  instead  of  a  local  dialect  an 
artificial  compromise  between  the  modern  dialects  and 
the  ancient  literary  language.  There  is  not  yet  perfect 
agreement  upon  the  proportions  of  each  that  should 
be  used,  and  until  the  standard  language  is  fixed  it  can 
hardly  supersede  the  dialects. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT 

Since  language  is  a  reflection  of  thought,  a  really 
perfect  language  is  impossible  until  all  the  arts  and 
sciences  have  been  perfected.  Dalgarno,  who  in  1661 
invented  the  first  artificial  language,  was  right  in  trying 
to  make  his  words  express  the  exact  nature  of  the  ideas 
they  stood  for;  but  his  classification  was  necessarily 
based  upon  the  science  of  his  day  and  would  not  serve 
us  at  all.  In  his  system  de  means  "element,"  deb  is 
"fire,"  one  of  the  four  elements,  while  deba  is  "flame," 
the  first  subdivision  of  fire;  which  did  very  well  as  long 
as  fire  was  thought  to  be  an  element.  A  language  built 
on  this  principle  can  be  permanently  useful  only  after 
science  and  philosophy  have  ceased  to  change,  although 
one  must  admit  that  a  perfect  language  would  have  to 
do  just  what  Dalgarno  tried  to  make  his  language  do. 

Under  existing  conditions  we  can  scarcely  demand 
more  of  a  language  than  that  it  shall  represent  the 
thought  of  its  speakers  adequately,  clearly,  economically, 
and  with  due  regard  for  aesthetic  effect.  Even  this 
demand  is  not  met  by  any  known  language;  and  those 
which  come  nearest  to  the  goal  differ  from  one  another 
in  their  excellences;  one  language  is  beautiful,  another 
has  a  large  vocabulary,  and  another  is  easy  to  learn. 

It  is  not  even  certain  that  a  language  tends  to  improve 
in  all  respects  with  the  advancing  civilization  of  its 
speakers.  There  is  no  general  agreement  as  to  what 
constitutes  aesthetic  excellence  in  language;  but,  whatever 

159 


160  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

the  standard,  we  do  not  find  that  the  languages  of 
the  most  highly  civilized  peoples  are  the  most  beautiful, 
or  that  languages  tend  to  approach  the  standard  more 
closely  with  lapse  of  time.  The  numerous  vowels  of 
Ancient  Greek  have  been  considered  an  element  of 
beauty;  but  the  language  contracted  many  of  its  vowels 
while  Greek  civilization  was  still  advancing,  and  Hawai- 
ian has  a  larger  proportion  of  vowels  than  the  Greek 
of  any  period.  In  two  directions,  however,  a  progressive 
improvement  of  human  speech  may  be  observed; 
languages  tend  to  become  more  adequate  and  convenient 
tools  for  the  expression  of  thought. 

Adequacy — Mental  Horizon 

The  most  obvious  need  of  a  language  is  that  it  shall 
have  words  and  syntax  to  express  the  ideas  of  its 
speakers;  the  need  is  so  imperative  that  probably  no 
language  falls  far  behind  the  demands  made  upon  it. 
Some  languages  have  small  vocabularies,  but  their 
speakers  have  few  ideas.  An  unusually  large  vocabu- 
lary, on  the  other  hand,  does  not  necessarily  indicate  a 
correspondingly  great  number  of  ideas;  the  huge  English 
dictionary  is  crammed  with  synonyms,  many  of  which 
are  unfamiliar  to  a  large  part  of  the  speakers  of  the  lan- 
guage, and  would  be  little  missed  if  lost  tomorrow.  In 
syntax,  too,  probably  every  language  has  adequate 
machinery  for  expressing  all  that  its  users  think,  although 
many  languages  are  burdened  with  unnecessary  ma- 
chinery, such  as  grammatical  gender.  It  is  true  that  the 
first  persons  who  use  a  language  for  literary  purposes  are 
likely  to  find  the  syntax  troublesome  and  the  vocabulary 
quite  inadequate;  but  the  difficulty  soon  vanishes. 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT        161 

After  Ennius  and  Plautus  the  Latin  language  was  ade- 
quate for  poetry  of  almost  any  type,  and  after  Lucretius 
and  Cicero  it  could  easily  express  philosophic  thought. 
Such  an  increase  in  adequacy  results  directly  from  a 
widening  of  the  mental  horizon;  in  so  far  linguistic 
improvement  runs  parallel  with  increase  in  civilization. 

Analysis 

The  mental  life  of  the  individual  begins  with  the  mere 
recognition  of  "something  there."  "The  baby,"  says 
James,1  "assailed  by  sensations  from  eyes,  ears,  nose, 
skin,  and  entrails  at  once,  feels  it  all  as  one  great  bloom- 
ing, buzzing  confusion."  But  presently  the  young 
thinker  has  a  new  experience;  there  is  the  same  "bloom- 
ing, buzzing  confusion,"  but  something  out  there — the 
nurse,  perhaps — moves  and  thus  gets  itself  isolated  from 
the  rest  of  the  universe.  Many  days  later  humanity  in 
general  is  distinguished  from  the  great  unanalyzed  all, 
which  still  makes  up  the  bulk  of  experience.  By  degrees 
the  person-group  is  itself  analyzed  into  mother,  nurse, 
etc.  Just  so,  as  long  as  he  lives,  each  individual  keeps 
making  new  analyses  of  his  experience,  either  of  his  own 
accord  or  at  the  suggestion  of  another.  Occasionally  an 
analysis  is  made  which  is  new  to  the  community  as  well 
as  to  the  individual.  There  have  been,  in  the  aggregate, 
many  such  advances  in  the  thought  of  mankind;  upon 
them  the  development  of  civilization  largely  depends. 

A  new  analysis  which  affects  only  the  substantive 
parts  of  the  stream  of  consciousness  may  be  called  a  new 
idea;  and  the  tendency  to  express  such  an  idea  in  lan- 
guage does  not  materially  differ  from  the  tendency  to 

1  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  I,  488. 


1 62  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

name  other  discoveries.  We  have  grouped  the  two 
phenomena  together  in  our  discussion  of  changes  in 
vocabulary  (pages  103  ff.). 

There  remains  to  be  considered  the  subtler  analysis 
which  concerns  also  the  transitive  states  of  consciousness, 
that  is,  the  distinction  of  function  from  function  and  of 
function  from  meaning. 

Young  children  often  use  a  single  word  or  phrase  for 
several  different  purposes.  A  child's  word  for  "water" 
("cup-a-waw,"  "ngink-a-waw-waw,"  or  what  not?)  is, 
at  one  stage  of  development,  used  where  an  older  person 
would  say  "Give  me  a  drink  of  water"  or  "I've  had  a 
drink  of  water"  or  "That's  a  cup  of  water"  or  "Will  you 
have  a  drink  of  water?"  An  older  child's  substitution 
of  several  sentences  for  the  younger  child's  single  undif- 
ferentiated  phrase  amounts  to  a  discrimination  between 
different  functions.  In  the  earlier  stage  "cup-a-waw" 
denotes  a  fairly  definite  substantive  state  of  conscious- 
ness plus  a  number  of  transitive  states  of  consciousness. 
In  the  second  stage  this  group  of  transitive  states  of  con- 
sciousness has  been  analyzed  into  its  elements. 

Although  human  speech  has  probably  passed  through 
a  stage  analogous  to  that  seen  in  the  childish  "cup-a- 
waw,"  no  known  language  even  approaches  such  a  con- 
dition. There  are,  however,  many  languages  which  fail 
to  distinguish  between  functions  which  to  us  seem  essen- 
tial. In  Aztec  there  is  often  no  formal  distinction 
between  subject,  object,  and  indirect  object;  one  says 
virtually  "he-it-him-give,  it-is-king,  it-is-bread,  it-is- 
his-son"  for  "The  king  gives  bread  to  his  son." 

A  formal  distinction  between  functions  usually  de- 
velops gradually.  The  Anglo-Saxon  genitive  was  em- 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       163 

ployed  much  as  the  Latin  genitive  to  denote  possession 
and  also  many  other  ideas;  for  example,  an  lytel  sees 
earm  ("a  little  sea's  arm")  "a  little  arm  of  the  sea."  In 
Modern  English  the  genitive  expresses  scarcely  any- 
thing but  possession.  In  the  Indo-European  parent 
language  the  end  of  motion  and  the  direct  object  seem 
not  to  have  been  distinguished.  Even  in  Latin  we  find 
Romam  venit  as  well  as  Romam  aedificat.  The  former 
construction,  however,  was  by  that  time  confined  within 
narrow  limits,  and  in  the  Romance  languages  the  dis- 
crimination between  the  two  functions  is  complete. 
Indo-European  possessed  no  forms  which  were  used 
solely  in  the  passive  sense.  In  the  earliest  Greek  the 
same  condition  persisted,  since  Homer  sometimes  em- 
ployed the  so-called  aorist  passive  in  a  middle  (that  is, 
reflexive  or  intransitive)  sense.  In  Attic  Greek  the 
aorist  passive  was  used  rather  consistently  in  the  sense 
which  its  name  suggests,  and  in  Hellenistic  Greek  the 
future  passive  tended  to  crowd  out  the  future  middle  in 
the  passive  sense.  In  Modern  Greek  the  old  middle 
forms  are  retained,  but  now  they  regularly  function  as 
passives,  except  for  the  deponents  and  a  few  idioms.  In 
most  of  the  other  Indo-European  languages  also  the 
passive  relation  has  within  historic  times  become  more 
distinct  from  other  functions. 

So  far  we  have  been  discussing  the  distinction  of 
function  from  function.  There  is  a  somewhat  less  wide- 
spread tendency  to  distinguish  formally  between  func- 
tion and  meaning.  Latin  Romam  in  the  sentence  Romam 
venit  expressed  the  same  meaning  as  the  other  cases  of 
the  noun  Roma  and  in  addition  the  function  of  the  end  of 
motion.  But,  as  we  have  just  observed,  the  sentence 


1 64  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

Romam  venit  was  a  survival  of  a  type  which  in  classical 
Latin  was  dying  out.  The  newer  type,  represented  by 
Ad  urbem  venit,  denoted  the  function  by  ad  and  the 
meaning  by  urbem.  It  is  true  that  urbem  still  continued 
to  suggest  function  by  its  case,  but  in  French  //  venit  a 
Rome  the  analysis  is  complete. 

The  development  is,  of  course,  not  always  in  the  same 
direction.  While  at  one  time  the  French  iuturej' aimer ai 
represented  a  true  analysis  (aimer  ai),  all  speakers  now 
feel  the  locution  as  a  single  word.  Nevertheless  most  of 
the  languages  which  can  be  studied  historically  show  a 
progressive  tendency  toward  analysis. 

A  characteristic  difference  between  Latin  and  its 
modern  descendants  is  the  more  analytic  structure  of  the 
latter.  French  j  'ai  aime  analyzes  Latin  amavi  into  three 
semantic  elements — two  meanings  and  a  function. 
French  beaucoup  d' amour  (  =  Latin  multum  amoris) 
analyzes  amoris  into  a  meaning  and  a  function.  English 
shows  a  similar  increase  of  analysis  as  compared  with 
Anglo-Saxon.  Where  King  Alfred  wrote  Ohthere  soede 
his  hlaforde  we  say  "Ohthere  said  to  his  lord,"  expressing 
by  a  preposition  the  function  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  dative. 
We  translate  Anglo-Saxon  dceges  "  by  day,"  nor'dan  "  from 
the  north,"  full  wcetcres  "full  of  water." 

English  has  a  more  analytic  structure  than  French, 
as  may  be  seen  by  translating  such  French  words  and 
phrases  as  these:  je  donne  "I  give  or  do  give  or  am  giv- 
ing," donner  "to  give,"  je  donnerai  "I  shall  give,"  je 
donnerais  "I  should  give,"  donnons  "let  us  give."  It  is 
true  that  in  certain  cases  French  seems  to  be  more  ana- 
lytic than  English,  for  example,  le  livre  de  Jean  "John's 
book,"  les  boltes  de  sept  lieues  "the  seven-league  boots," 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       165 

de  ban  vin  "good  wine";  but  even  in  these  examples  the 
extra  word  in  French  is  used  to  express  three  different 
functions,  and  so  what  is  gained  by  the  analysis  of  func- 
tion from  meaning  is  lost  by  the  confusion  of  function 
with  function. 

Clear  thinking  is  promoted  by  a  relatively  full  analy- 
sis of  thought,  and  the  more  analytic  the  structure  of  a 
language,  the  more  fully  must  its  speakers  analyze  their 
thought.  It  is  no  longer  the  mode  to  identify  language 
with  logic,  and  yet  to  a  considerable  extent  the  average 
man's  logical  attainments  are  due  to,  and  limited  by,  his 
training  in  his  native  language.  The  following  passage 
from  John  Stuart  Mill's  St.  Andrews  Address  views  the 
matter  from  an  old-fashioned  standpoint,  but  is  sound 
in  the  main: 

Even  as  mere  languages,  no  modern  European  language  is  so 
valuable  a  discipline  as  those  of  Greece  and  Rome,  on  account 
of  their  regular  and  complicated  structure.  Consider  for  a 
moment  what  grammar  is.  It  is  the  most  elementary  part  of 
logic.  It  is  the  beginning  of  the  analysis  of  the  thinking  process. 
The  principles  and  rules  of  grammar  are  the  means  by  which  the 
forms  of  language  are  made  to  correspond  with  the  universal  forms 
of  thought.  The  distinctions  between  the  various  parts  of  speech, 
between  the  cases  of  nouns,  the  moods  and  tenses  of  verbs,  the 
functions  of  particles,  are  distinctions  in  thought,  not  merely  in 
words.  Single  nouns  and  verbs  express  objects  and  events, 
many  of  which  can  be  cognized  by  the  senses;  but  the  modes  of 
putting  nouns  and  verbs  together,  express  the  relations  of  objects 
and  events,  which  can  be  cognized  only  by  the  intellect;  and  each 
mode  corresponds  to  a  different  relation.  The  structure  of  every 
sentence  is  a  lesson  In  logic.  The  various  rules  of  syntax  oblige 
us  to  distinguish  between  the  subject  and  predicate  of  a  proposi- 
tion, between  the  agent,  the  action,  and  the  thing  acted  upon; 
to  mark  when  an  idea  is  intended  to  modify,  or  qualify,  or  merely 
to  unite  with,  some  other  idea;  what  assertions  are  categorical; 


1 66  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

what  only  conditional;  whether  the  intention  is  to  express  similar- 
ity or  contrast,  to  make  a  plurality  of  assertions  conjunctively  or 
disjunctively;  what  portions  of  a  sentence,  though  grammatically 
complete  in  themselves,  are  mere  members  or  subordinate  parts 
of  the  assertion  made  by  the  entire  sentence.  Such  things  form 
the  subject-matter  of  universal  grammar;  and  the  languages  which 
teach  it  best  are  those  which  have  the  most  definite  rules,  and 
which  provide  distinct  forms  for  the  greatest  number  of  dis- 
tinctions in  thought,  so  that,  if  we  fail  to  attend  precisely  and 
accurately  to  any  of  these,  we  cannot  avoid  committing  a  solecism 
in  language.  In  these  qualities  the  classical  languages  have  an 
incomparable  superiority  over  every  modern  language,  and  over 
all  languages,  dead  or  living,  which  have  a  literature  worth  being 
generally  studied. 

The  first  sentence  and  the  last  are,  as  we  have  seen, 
curiously  erroneous;  in  precisely  these  respects  the 
modern  European  languages  are  superior  to  their  prede- 
cessors. European  speech  has  greatly  improved  in  the 
last  two  millenniums  as  an  instrument  of  exact  thought 
and  as  a  compelling  incentive  to  such  thought.  They 
are  more  regular,  not  less  so,  and  they  register  more,  not 
fewer,  distinctions  in  thought.1 

An  incidental  advantage  of  analytic  structure  is  the 
avoidance  of  repetition.  As  far  as  style  and  diction  are 
concerned  repetition  is  universally  recognized  as  a  fault 
under  the  name  of  tautology.  The  repetition  of  the 
expression  of  a  function  is  less  obtrusive,  as  in  the  phrase 
"a  brother  of  mine,"  where  the  possessive  idea  of  the 
pronoun  is  expressed  also  by  the  preposition.  In  "he 
sings  and  plays"  the  third  person  and  singular  num- 

1  It  is  quite  true  that  study  of  a  synthetic  language  by  one  whose 
native  idiom  is  analytic  has  the  effect  which  Mill  claims.  Even  more 
valuable  would  be  the  study  of  an  analytic  language  by  one  whose 
native  idiom  was  synthetic. 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT        167 

her  are  expressed  by  the  pronoun  and  by  each  of  the 
verbs;  "he  sing  and  play"  would  be  a  better  form  of 
expression.  This  sort  of  repetition  is  very  common  in 
highly  inflected  languages.  Latin  Decurrit  de  superiors 
loco  repeats  the  idea  expressed  by  de  in  the  ablative 
superiors  and  again  in  the  ablative  loco.  The  sentence 
Res  erat  multae  operae  et  laboris  expresses  the  function 
of  the  genitive  three  times. 

It  is  this  sort  of  repetition  which  an  analytic  sentence 
structure  avoids.  The  Latin  sentence  just  cited  would 
be  rendered  in  English,  "It  was  a  task  of  much  effort  and 
toil";  the  function  which  Latin  expressed  three  times  is 
expressed  once  for  all  in  the  preposition  "of."  French 
de  moi-meme  and  de  ma  mere  avoid  the  repetition  of 
Latin  mei  ipsius  and  meae  matris,  and  are  thus  economical 
of  effort.  A  brief  analytic  phrase,  such  as  de  moi,  j'ai 
dime,  is  commonly  longer  than  the  corresponding  syn- 
thetic form  (mei  or  amavi) ;  but  in  connected  discourse 
analysis  makes  for  economy. 

Association 

One  of  the  most  important  features  of  the  train  of 
thought  is  the  tendency  of  certain  ideas  to  occur  together 
or  in  succession.  If  I  think  of  Dr.  B.,  I  usually  think  of 
his  office  and  then  of  a  certain  ailment  to  which  my  little 
son  is  just  now  subject.  In  some  moods,  however,  I 
think  of  Dr.  B.'s  political  connections  and  then  of  a  cer- 
tain candidate  for  governor  of  our  state.  Something  was 
said  above  (pages  37  ff.)  of  this  association  of  ideas  and 
of  its  effects  upon  language. 

Many  association  groups  are  clearly  reflected  in  lan- 
guage. English  "sleep,"  "sleeping,"  "sleeper,"  "sleepy," 


1 68  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

represent  ideas  which  are  associated  on  the  basis  of  a  com- 
mon element,  and  the  words  themselves  are  tied  together 
by  similarity  of  form.  The  same  statements  hold  with 
regard  to  "  world,"  "world-wide,"  "world-weary," 
"worldly,"  " worldliness, "  or  with  regard  to  "sweet," 
"sweeter,"  "sweetest,"  "sweetness,"  "sweeten."  In 
contrast  to  these  we  find  other  groups  of  associated  ideas 
expressed  by  wholly  dissimilar  words,  as  "force," 
"dynamic,"  "impel,"  or  "go,"  "went,"  "journey," 
"speed." 

Analogy  (see  pages  38  ff.)  tends  to  substitute  word- 
groups  of  the  first  type  for  those  of  the  second,  as  when 
we  say  "  commute  "  and  "  commuter  "  to  match  "  commu- 
tation," or  "enthuse"  to  match  "enthusiasm"  and  "en- 
thusiast." But  there  are  several  tendencies  working  in 
the  contrary  direction.  The  association  of  ideas  itself  is 
so  many-sided  and  shifting  that  it  often  creates  inconcin- 
nity;  since  dreams  are  associated  with  sleep,  we  get 
"dreamy"  as  a  synonym  of  "sleepy,"  and  the  association 
of  beds  with  sleep  gives  us  "bedroom"  beside  "sleeping- 
room."  A  change  of  meaning  frequently  transfers  a 
word  to  a  new  and  incongruous  association  group,  as 
when  "impertinent,"  properly  the  negative  of  "perti- 
nent," became  a  synonym  of  "impudent."  A  change  of 
sound  often  makes  a  word  less  like  its  congeners,  as  when 
Latin  *noven  and  *novcnos  became  novem  and  nonus. 
Loan-words  are  always  a  disturbing  factor,  except  in  the 
rare  cases  when  a  whole  group  of  related  terms  is  bor- 
rowed. Thus  our  association  group  "sleep,"  "sleeping," 
etc.,  includes  such  foreign  words  as  "dormant,"  "somno- 
lent," "hypnotic."  Sometimes  borrowed  words  are  pre- 
ferred just  because  their  lack  of  associates  makes  them 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       169 

mysterious  and  imposing.  Religious  fakirs  affect  such 
words  as  "yoga,"  "karma,"  "mahatma";  medical  fakirs 
prate  of  "psychotherapy,"  "hydro therapy,"  "subluxa- 
tion/'  etc.  A  school  of  dentists  call  themselves  "ortho- 
dontists" and  write  serious  papers  on  the  question 
whether  their  profession  shall  be  called  "orthodontia"  or 
"orthodontics."  Heaven  forbid  that  it  should  be  called 
"tooth-straightening" !  It  is  nevertheless  probable  that 
in  most  languages  the  result  of  these  various  processes  is 
a  net  gain — a  genuine  tendency  to  assimilate  the  vocabu- 
lary to  the  association  of  ideas. 

The  tendency  is  much  clearer,  however,  with  regard 
to  the  means  of  denoting  function.  In  Anglo-Saxon  the 
plural  was  denoted  in  many  different  ways,  as  may  be 
seen  from  the  following  (the  first  word  of  each  pair  is 
nominative-accusative  singular  and  the  second  nomina- 
tive-accusative plural):  mudimudas,  bdn:bdn,  hof \hofu, 
spereisperu,  giefu:giefa,  wund:wunda,hunta  (nominative 
only) :hun tan,  fot:fet,  manimen,  brdfior:bre"der,  freond: 
friend.  In  the  other  cases  we  find  very  different  pairs. 
In  the  genitive,  singular  and  plural  appear  thus:  mudes: 
muffa,  banes :bdna,  giefe:giefa,  huntan  \huntena.  In  the 
dative  sometimes  the  number-signs  of  the  nominative  are 
reversed  except  for  the  constant  dative  plural  ending 
-um:  mude-.mu'dum,  suna:sunum,  huntan :huntum,  fet: 
fotum,  men  \mannum.  In  place  of  this  inconsistency 
Modern  English  forms  nearly  all  plurals  with  the  suffix 
-s,  -z,  -iz  ("lips,"  "ears,"  "noses"),  which  has  three 
forms,  to  be  sure,  but  which  varies  automatically,  accord- 
ing to  the  preceding  sound.  Furthermore  the  Modern 
English  plural  sign  serves  for  all  cases.  The  chief  factor 
in  the  simplification  has  been  analogy.  The  nominative 


170  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

plural  ending  -as  of  the  a-stems  had  spread  far  beyond  its 
original  limits  at  the  beginning  of  our  records,  and  it  has 
continued  to  spread  ever  since.  The  present-day  ten- 
dency of  some  speakers  to  say  "feets"  or  "foots,"  instead 
of  "feet,"  is  but  the  continuance  of  this  immemorial 
process.  The  spread  of  the  s-suffix  to  the  dative  plural 
has  been  due  to  the  identical  form  of  nominative,  dative, 
and  accusative  singular  which  in  many  nouns  resulted 
from  the  loss  of  short  final  vowels  ("arm"  [nom.] :  "arm" 
[dat.]  =  "arms"  [nom.]:  "arms"  [dat.]).  The  -5  of  the 
genitive  plural  is  due  in  part  to  the  combined  influence 
of  the  other  cases  and  in  part  to  the  influence  of  the  geni- 
tive singular  (cf.  "men's,"  etc.). 

French  also  shows  a  spread  of  a  plural  sign  -5  in  place 
of  the  numerous  plural  signs  of  Latin.  The  starting- 
point  was  the  Latin  accusative  plurals  in  -as,  -os,  and  -es, 
which  crowded  out  the  neuter  accusative  ending  -a  and 
the  endings  of  the  other  plural  cases.  In  Modern  French 
this  plural  -s,  though  still  written,  is  usually  not  pro- 
nounced. In  general,  the  sole  mark  of  the  plural  of 
nouns  is  now  the  form  of  the  article:  le  pere:les  peres, 
l'ami:les  amis. 

In  the  last  examples  the  tendency  toward  an  accurate 
representation  of  the  functional  association  groups  goes 
hand  in  hand  with  the  tendency  toward  analytic  struc- 
ture. The  same  phenomenon  may  be  noted  in  several  of 
the  examples  previously  cited.  Latin  ad  with  accusative 
is  a  more  adequate  expression  of  the  function  than  the 
accusative  alone,  and  French  a  surpasses  Latin  ad  be- 
cause the  noun  which  accompanies  it  is  free  from  the 
meaningless  variation  seen  in  the  Latin  accusative  urbem, 
oppidum,  villam,  turrim,  mare. 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT        171 

Correspondence  between  the  association  groups  and 
the  phonetically  similar  word-groups  promotes  accuracy, 
clearness,  and  vividness  of  speech.  The  sentence  "This 
topic  is  impertinent"  inevitably  seems  to  most  of  us 
somehow  analogous  to  the  sentence  "This  child  is  im- 
pertinent"; our  thinking  is  confused  by  the  lack  of 
correspondence  between  the  word-group  and  the  asso- 
ciation group.  The  word  "sleepy"  is  understood  by 
many  people  who  do  not  know  the  meaning  of  "somno- 
lent," and  the  former  word  makes  a  stronger  impression 
upon  all  of  us — not  because  it  is  shorter  or  because  it  is 
"a  Saxon  word,"  but  because  it  is  phonetically  similar 
to  other  words  of  the  group. 

Convenience — Regularity 

The  greatest  advantage  of  the  assimilation  of  the  lin- 
guistic mechanism  to  the  mental  association  groups  is 
that  this  involves  linguistic  regularity.  Plurals  of  Eng- 
lish and  French  nouns  are  very  much  more  regular  in 
formation  than  Anglo-Saxon  or  Latin  plurals.  Every 
person  who  has  studied  both  French  and  Latin  is  aware 
that  the  French  declension  is  easier  to  learn  than  the 
Latin,  and  most  of  the  difficulty  that  still  remains  in  the 
French  noun  comes  from  the  learning  of  plurals  which  are 
distinguished  from  the  singulars  in  writing,  although  not 
in  pronunciation.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  French  children 
make  more  rapid  progress  in  learning  to  talk  than  Roman 
children  did. 

A  still  clearer  example  of  the  convenience  that  comes 
of  regularity  is  furnished  by  the  change  of  English 
strong  verbs  to  weak  verbs.  The  modern  verb  "help," 
"helped,"  "helped"  is  obviously  easier  to  learn  and 


172  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

to  employ  than  Anglo-Saxon  helpan,  healp,  kulpon, 
hoi  pen.  In  Anglo-Saxon  there  were  some  300  strong 
verbs,  of  which  about  165  are  still  in  use;  but  more  than 
half  of  the  latter  number  have  been  transferred  by 
analogy  to  the  regular  or  "  weak  "  conjugation.  Analogy 
may  yet  give  us  "blowed"  for  "blew,"  "knowed"  for 
"knew,"  etc.,  with  further  economy  of  effort  for  every 
person  who  thereafter  learns  the  language. 

Economy 

We  have  already  seen  (pages  166  f.)  that  analytic 
structure  promotes  the  convenience  of  language  by 
avoiding  needless  repetition.  Another  linguistic  trait 
which  tends  to  economize  phonetic  material  is  the  sig- 
nificant word-order.  We  can  see  the  beginnings  of  this 
in  the  older  languages  of  Our  family,  such  as  Greek  and 
Latin.  The  classical  writers  make  continual  use  of  word- 
order  to  indicate  emphasis  or  to  point  contrasts,  and  fre- 
quently the  meaning  itself  is  determined  in  this  way. 
Greek  distinguishes  between  6  <7o</>6s  dn7p  "the  wise  man" 
and  6  di^p  crowds  "the  man  is  wise."  In  Greek  and  Latin 
we  can  usually  tell  by  the  agreement  which  of  several 
nouns  an  adjective  modifies,  but  a  genitive  has  to  be 
assigned  to  its  noun  by  the  context  or  the  word-order; 
for  example,  Horace,  Od.  i.  4.  13  f.: 

Pallida  Mors  aequo  pulsat  pede  pauperum  tabernas 
Regumque  turris. 

We  take  pauperum  and  regum  with  tabernas  and  turris 
rather  than  with  mors  solely  on  account  of  the  position. 
Again,  the  antecedent  of  a  relative  is  frequently  deter- 
mined by  the  word-order;  Caesar,  B.C.  ii.  24  begins: 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       173 

"Eodem  tempore  equites  nostri  levisque  armaturae 

pedites,  qui  cum  iis  una  fuerant "  If  word-order 

counted  for  nothing  one  could  not  decide  whether  to 
construe  qui  with  equites  or  with  pedites. 

The  fact  remains,  however,  that  in  Greek  and  Latin 
the  word-order  has  far  less  relation  to  the  meaning  than 
in  French  or  English.  In  the  Latin  sentence  viri  laudant 
Ciceronem  the  relations  of  the  words  to  one  another  are 
denoted  by  their  inflectional  forms.  In  the  English  sen- 
tence "The  men  praise  Cicero"  the  relations  of  the  words 
to  one  another  are  indicated  by  their  order.  Since  the 
words  of  a  sentence  must  be  arranged  in  some  order,  it 
is  a  matter  of  economy  to  make  the  order  significant. 

It  is  not  to  be  assumed,  however,  that  a  fixed  word- 
order  is  necessarily  advantageous.  There  is  little  to  be 
said  in  favor  of  the  inverted  and  transposed  order  of 
German.  One  of  the  most  important  improvements 
which  English  has  experienced  is  the  virtual  elimination 
of  these  features  of  Teutonic  speech.  The  transposed 
order,  which  may  be  illustrated  by  the  Anglo-Saxon 
clause  sippan  he  f ram  his  agnum  ham  for  ("after  he  from 
his  own  home  went"),  has  been  completely  given  up. 
We  still  make  occasional  use  of  the  inverted  order,  as 
"There  comes  the  man!"  or  "More  important  is  our 
next  point." 

Nearly  all  languages  show  a  tendency  to  shorten  their 
words.  The  brevity  of  French  words  as  compared  with 
Latin  is  obvious  from  a  glance  at  a  page  of  each  language. 
Modern  English  has  shorter  words  than  Anglo-Saxon. 
Even  Modern  German  shows  a  larger  proportion  of 
monosyllables  and  dissyllables  than  the  earliest  remains 
of  Teutonic  speech.  In  Chinese  and  the  related  idioms 


174  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

such  a  tendency  cannot  be  observed,  since  all  their  words 
have  been  monosyllables  from  the  beginning  of  our 
records.  There  is  some  reason  to  believe,  however,  that 
in  very  ancient  times  Chinese  had  words  of  more  than 
one  syllable. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  shorter  a  word  the 
better.  Long  words  are  inconvenient  because  they  are 
hard  to  learn  and  hard  to  remember;  each  time  they  are 
used  they  require  additional  time  and  extra  effort  on  the 
part  of  both  speaker  and  hearer.  The  Greeks  and 
Romans  called  a  "giraffe"  camelopardalis.  Our  English 
word  is  better  than  this  by  four  syllables,  but  a  mono- 
syllable, such  as  "raf"  or  "gi"  would  be  twice  as  con- 
venient as  the  English  word.  The  Sanskrit  word  for 
" crown  prince"  is  bhavicakravarti.  Here  again  the  Eng- 
lish saves  four  syllables,  although  it  uses  a  phrase  in 
place  of  a  single  word. 

As  a  rule  a  decrease  in  word-length  is  accompanied 
by  the  development  of  analytic  structure.  The  brevity 
of  individual  words,  therefore,  is  partially  compensated 
by  an  increase  in  the  number  of  words;  French  de  moi  is 
no  more  economical  than  Latin  mei.  Even  in  this  case, 
however,  the  analytic  language  saves  effort  in  the  end, 
since,  as  we  have  seen,  it  avoids  repetition  in  the  longer 
phrases  dc  moi-mcmc,  de  ma  mere,  etc. 

Short  words,  significant  word-order,  and  analytic 
structure  are  more  or  less  characteristic  of  the  modern 
languages  of  Western  Europe,  especially  French,  English, 
Dutch,  and  the  Scandinavian  languages.  The  most  con- 
sistent exponents  of  all  these  linguistic  features,  however, 
are  the  monosyllabic  languages  of  Southeastern  Asia,  of 
which  Chinese  is  the  best  known.  The  comparative 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       175 

economy  of  languages  may  be  statistically  determined 
within  certain  limits  by  counting  the  syllables  required 
to  translate  a  given  document.  Matthew's  Gospel1  con- 
tains in  Greek  about  39,000  syUables,inLatinabout37,ooo, 
in  Swedish  about  35,000,  in  German  a  few  more  than 
34,000,  in  Anglo-Saxon  about  34,000,  in  French  about 
33,000,  in  Danish  about  32,500,  in  Gothic  about  31,100, 
in  English  about  29,000,  in  Chinese  about  17,000.  These 
figures  furnish  only  an  approximate  index  of  the  economy 
of  the  several  languages,  since  they  are  in  part  determined 
by  totally  different  factors;  for  example,  the  apparent 
superiority  of  Latin  to  Greek  is  due  chiefly  to  its  lack  of  a 
definite  article  and  its  more  sparing  use  of  conjunctive 
particles,  neither  of  which  features  can  be  considered  an 
advantage.  The  unexpectedly  favorable  showing  of 
Gothic  may  be  similarly  explained.  Then  again,  the 
personal  equation  must  not  be  neglected;  it  is  possible 
that  a  more  skilful  translator  would  have  saved  many 
syllables  in  the  French  version,  or  that  a  more  exact 
translator  would  have  added  many  to  the  Chinese 
version.  Still  there  is  little  doubt  that  in  point  of 
economy  these  ten  languages  should  be  arranged  in 
about  this  order. 

Students  of  language  have  at  different  times  taken 
several  different  attitudes  toward  linguistic  change. 
Those  whose  interest  has  been  chiefly  confined  to  some 

1  Part  of  the  figures  above  are  taken  from  Jespersen,  Progress 
in  Language  with  Special  Reference  to  English,  pp.  120  f.,  who  gets  some  of 
them  from  Tegner,  Sprakets  Makt,  pp.  51  ff.  I  have  estimated  the  Latin, 
German,  Anglo-Saxon,  and  French  versions  by  counting  half  the  columns 
and  multiplying  the  result  by  two.  I  have  counted  the  syllables  hi  the 
287$  extant  verses  of  the  Gothic  version,  and  assumed  the  same  ratio  of 
syllables  to  verses  for  the  lost  portion. 


176  LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 

one  language  have  usually  chosen  a  period  in  the  history 
of  that  language  as  marking  the  climax  of  the  excellence 
of  the  tongue — the  age  of  Pericles,  the  Augustan  period, 
the  time  of  Elizabeth.  Before  that  period  is  supposed  to 
lie  the  period  of  growth,  and  after  it  the  period  of  decay. 
The  earlier  comparative  philologists  pushed  back  the 
period  of  linguistic  perfection  for  languages  of  our  group 
to  the  time  when  the  common  ancestors  of  Hindoos, 
Persians,  and  Europeans  dwelt  together,  as  scholars  sup- 
posed, in  a  sort  of  Garden  of  Eden  somewhere  in  Central 
Asia.  Then  came  a  disposition  to  disregard  the  question 
of  linguistic  excellence.  The  business  of  the  linguistic 
scholar  was  held  to  be  the  study  of  all  types  of  language 
impartially;  in  particular,  there  was  a  protest  against 
the  disregard  of  popular  dialects  and  of  slang.  During 
the  last  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  there  was  a 
growing  conviction  that  linguistic  development  is  usually 
in  the  direction  of  improvement;  and  since  the  publica- 
tion, in  1894,  of  Jespersen's  Progress  in  Language  with 
Special  Reference  to  English,  it  has  scarcely  been  possible 
to  doubt  that  such  is  the  case. 

Can  we  go  farther  and  promote  the  improvement  of 
language  by  conscious  effort  ?  More  than  one  system  of 
writing  has  been  improved  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  by 
taking  thought.  Even  our  rigid  but  woefully  illogical 
and  inconsistent  system  of  English  orthography  is  largely 
the  work  of  one  man,  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson;  and  recent 
efforts  at  a  simplification  of  spelling  have,  in  spite  of 
much  ridicule,  made  noteworthy  progress.  Here  and 
there  conscious  effort  has  altered  the  course  of  develop- 
ment even  of  spoken  language.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  exertions  of  several  generations  of  schoolmasters. 


TREND  OF  LINGUISTIC  DEVELOPMENT       177 

standard  English  would  long  ago  have  adopted  a  dis- 
tinction between  conjunctive  and  disjunctive  pronouns 
analogous  to  that  which  prevails  in  French — "it's  me"  = 
c'est  moi.  The  constant  use  of  a  plural  verb  with  two 
or  more  singular  subjects  in  Modern  English  probably 
comes  from  the  schoolroom.  In  the  past  such  efforts 
have  usually  been  directed  against  a  usage  that  was  sup- 
posed to  be  an  innovation,  but  there  seems  to  be  no 
reason  in  the  nature  of  the  case  why  the  school  should 
not  some  day  be  enlisted  in  an  effort  to  improve  the 
language. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Ablaut,  118  f. 

Abnormal  vowels,  20 

Absolute  constructions,  142 

Accent,  22  f. 

Albanian,  classification,  123,  154 

Alliteration,  53 

Alphabets:  development,  2  ff.; 
imperfection,  6  ff. 

Alveolars,  16 

Analogical  creation,  42  ff.,  109  ff., 
131  ff- 

Analogy,  38  ff . ,  94  ff . ;  formal  groups, 
94 ff.,  135  f.;  functional  groups, 
40  ff.,  135,  169  f.;  meaning 
groups,  37  ff.,  131  ff.,  168  f. 

Analysis:  and  association,  170; 
and  clear  thinking,  165  f.;  and 
economy,  166  f.;  of  function, 
162  ff.;  of  language,  10  ff.;  of 
meaning,  104  f.,  161  f. 

Anglo-Saxon:  alphabet,  8;  econ- 
omy, 175;  genitive,  162  f.; 
plural  nouns,  169;  preterite,  49; 
separated  from  Teutonic  speech, 
147;  word-order,  173 

Anticipation,  44  ff. 

Articulation:  ease,  61  ff.;  tend- 
ency to  eliminate  unfamiliar, 
64  f.;  unstable,  63  f. 

Assimilation,  46  ff. 

Association  groups.     See  Analogy 

Association  of  ideas,  37  ff.;  and 
adequacy,  167  ff.;  and  analysis, 
170;  and  clearness,  168  f.,  171; 
reflected  by  form,  167  ff.; 
within  the  sentence,  44  ff. 

Associative  interference,  37  ff. 

Auxiliary  words,  138,  140,  144 

Avestan  vowels  altered  by  follow- 
ing vowel,  48 

Aztec,  162 


Back-forms,  120  f. 
Back-vowels,  18 

Cacuminals,  16 

Change  in  syntax,  131  ff. 

Change  in  vocabulary,  99  ff. 

Change  of  form:  affecting  several 
words,  68  ff.;  and  syntax,  137  ff.; 
due  to  associative  interfer- 
ence, 37  ff.;  due  to  custom, 
65  f.;  due  to  defective  hearing, 
33  f.;  due  to  defective  repro- 
duction, 34  f.;  due  to  ease  of 
articulation,  61  ff.;  due  to 
rhythm,  56  ff.;  due  to  speed, 
60  f.;  due  to  spelling,  65; 
gradual,  78  f.;  gradual  spread, 
76  f.;  irregular,  74  ff.,  83  f.; 
isolated,  82  f.;  primary,  32  ff.; 
regular,  69  ff.,  77  ff.,  83  f.; 
secondary,  68  ff.;  sudden,  79  ff.; 
unknown  factors,  66  f. 

Change  of  meaning,  85  ff.;  ana- 
logical, 94  ff. ;  and  syntax,  139  ff.; 
due  to  figures  of  speech,  89  ff.; 
due  to  modifiers,  92  ff.;  erratic, 
85;  shift  of  emphasis,  86  ff. 

Chinese:  accent,  59;  economy, 
174  f.;  monosyllables,  173  f. 

Classification  of  speech,  153  ff. 

Close  sounds,  17  ff. 

Color-words,  107 

Collectives:  become  plurals,  136, 
140;  become  specific,  140  f. 

Common  language,  155  ff. 

Composition,  noff. 

Consonants,  15  ff.;  double,  20  f.; 
glide  after  i  or  «,  62  f.;  long,  20 

Contact  languages,  152 

Contamination,  39,  130,  132  f. 

Convenience,  171  ff. 

Custom  and  pronunciation,  6587,  f. 


181 


182 


LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 


Danish:  accent,  57  f.;  economy, 
175;  influence  upon  English, 
72,  147 

Defective  hearing,  33  f. 

Defective  reproduction,  34  f. 

Dentals,  16 

Derivation,  113  ff.;  inverse,  120  f.; 
with  interior  change,  118  ff.; 
with  prefix,  118;  with  suffix, 
113  ff- 

Dialect,  146  f.;  class,  148  f.; 
classification,  153  ff.;  inter- 
mediate, 150;  mixture,  31,  78  f., 
81,  151  f.;  origin,  147  ff.;  rate 
of  variation,  152  f. 

Diphthongs,  18  f. 

Dissimilation,  52  ff.;  avoidance 
of  change  by,  53;  cause,  53  f.; 
change  by,  52  f.;  loss  by,  52 

Division  of  a  linguistic  community, 

147  f. 

Economy,   172   ff.;    by  analysis, 

1 66  f.;    by  short  words,  173  f.; 

by  significant  word-order,  172  f.; 

test,  174  f. 
Egyptian:  derivation,  120;  names, 

101;    roots,  120;    writing,  3  ff., 

7  f- 
English:    a   final   for   y,    79,   83; 

ah  (d),  for  i  (ai),  149;  American, 

27,  36,  70  f.,  75,  77,  79,  83,  125  f., 

148  f.,  151  f.;  analytic  structure, 
164  f.;   ay  for  a,  62;   accent,  23; 
bird-names,  130;    classification, 
154;   common  language,  156  f.; 
d  and  /  for  th,  36,  152;  d  from  /, 
62;    dative    case    lost,    137    f., 
164;   economy,  175;   h  lost,  71; 
indirect  object  becomes  subject 
of  passive  verb,   137   f.;    loan- 
words, 121  ff.;  loss  of  inflection, 

137  f.;     nouns    become    verbs, 

138  f.;   0  from  d,  68  ff.;   oi  from 
r,  71;   ob  from  oo,  74;   ow  from 
o,  62;    p  developed  after  final 
vowel,  66;    place-names  in  the 
United   States,    125   ff.;    plural 
nouns,  49,  169  f.,  171;   prefixes: 


mis-,  118;  re-,  118;  r  before  a 
consonant,  27,  70  f.,  77,  149; 
r  developed  after  final  vowel,  27; 
r  from  z,  66;  «'»ce-clauses,  141; 
sk  in  Danish  words,  72;  spelling, 
65,176;  standard  language,  157; 
suffixes :  -ation,  117;  -er ,  113;  -ful, 
114;  -ism,  117  f.;  -ist,  117  f.; 
•4ze,  117  f.;  -ly,  135  f.;  -n,  116; 
I  developed  after  final  s,  66; 
t  from  d,  62,  69;  th  from  t, 
62;  unnecessary  synonyms,  1 60; 
verbs  become  nouns,  138;  vowels 
altered  by  following  vowel,  47  f., 
119;  waw  from  wah,  75,  82; 
weak  verbs  from  strong  verbs, 
171  f.;  wAen-clauses,  141;  ivhile- 
clauses,  141;  word-order,  138, 
173;  y  final  for  a,  71,  79 

Etymology,  97  f. 

Explosives,  15 

Expression  movements,  128  f. 

Familiar  articulation  preferred, 
64  f. 

Figures  of  speech,  89  ff.,  144  f. 

Foreign  words  imitated,  123  f. 

Form  and  meaning,  23  f. 

French:  analytic  structure,  164; 
dialects,  150  f.,  154  f.;  econ- 
omy, 175;  feminines  from  Latin 
neuters  plural,  137;  future, 
115,  139,  164;  loan-words  in 
English  and  German,  109; 
negatives,  93;  perfect,  139, 
164;  plural  nouns,  170  f.;  pre- 
fix: me-,  mes-,  118;  suffixes: 
-iser,  117;  -ismc,  117;  -istc, 
117;  -rai,  115,  139,  164 

Front  vowels,  18 

Function,  40,  135,  140,  142 

German:  accent,  57;  common 
language,  156;  dialects,  class- 
ification of,  154;  economy, 
175;  genitival  compounds  with 
feminine  prior  member,  112; 
loan-words  eliminated,  123; 
mutation  of  consonants,  76  f.; 


INDEX 


183 


standard  language,  15  7  f.;  suf- 
fixes: -en,  116;  -er,  116;  vowels 
altered  by  following  vowel,  47  f . ; 
word-order,  173 

Germanic:  mutation  of  conson- 
ants, 62;  r  from  z,  66;  t  iiom  d, 
62,  69 

Glottal  stop,  5,  15 
Gothic,  economy,  175 
Grammatical  terminology,  24 
Greek:  alphabet,  6,  8;  accent,  23, 
59;    common  language,  155  f.; 
dialects,  70  f.,  73,  157;    e  from 
eu,  61;  economy,  175;  f,  loss  of, 
62;    17   from   a,   70   f.;     neuter 
plural,     136;      o-stems     before 
suffixes,    -repos    and  -ffAvrj,  60; 
passive,   163;    <f>,  pronunciation 
of,  61;  prepositions,  144;  p  from 
z,  66;  relatives,  142  f.;  standard 
language,    157   f.;    word-order, 
172 

Growth  of  larger  linguistic  com- 
munities, 155  f. 

Haplology,  47,  54  ff. 
Hausa,  152 
Hebrew  alphabet,  6 
Hieroglyphic  writing,  3  ff.,  7  f. 

Imitation,  24  ff.;    defective,  34  f. 
Indians:    dialectic  variation,  153; 

writing,  2  f. 
Indo-European:  accusative  of  end 

of  motion,  143  f.,  163;   passive, 

163;      stem    compounds,     112; 

vowel  alternation,  118  f.;  words 

of  relationship,  105 
Intensity,  21 
Italian  dialects,   classification  of, 

154  f- 

Labials,  16 

Labio-dentals,  16 

Language:  adequacy,  160  ff.; 

aesthetic  excellence,  159  f.; 

and  dialect,  146  ff.;  artificial, 

159;  classification,  153  ff.; 


common,  155  ff.;  definition, 
146;  literary,  155  ff.;  standard, 
157  f- 

Lapses,  32  ff. 

Laterals,  17 

Latin:  ablative  absolute,  142; 
accent,  22  f.,  58  f.,  69  f.,  78; 
accusative  of  end  of  motion, 
144,  163  f.;  au  for  0,  79;  b  from 
dh  medial,  72  f.;  clauses  of  fear, 
135;  common^  language,  155; 
e  for  ae,  61;  ei  for  i,  9;  /  from 
ph,  61;  /  from  dh  initial,  73; 
genitive  singular  of  fourth 
declension,  43  f.;  in  initial  from 
en,  80  f.;  mn,  74  f.;  neuters 
plural,  136;  o  after  u  retained, 
53;  o  for  au,  79  f.;  ov  from  ev, 
47;  r  from  z  from  s,  66,  69, 
70;  substantive  clauses,  133 ff.; 
suffixes :  -alls,  5  2 ;  -arts,  5  2 ;  -clum, 
35;  -ter,  115;  v  lost,  62;  vowels 
before  gn,  76;  vowel-weakening, 
49,  58  f.,  69  f.,  78;  word-order, 
172  f. 

Learning  to  speak:  children,  iaf., 
33  ff.;  foreigners,  36 

Linguistic  change,  spread,  76  f., 
149  f. 

Linguistic  development,  trend, 
159  ff- 

Linguistic  improvement,  17 5  S. 

Linguistic  model:  change  in,  29  f., 
81  f.;  change  of,  109 

Linguistic  units,  10  ff. 

Linguistic  variation,  147  ff.;  rate, 
152  f. 

Lisping,  36 

Literary  language,  155  ff. 

Loan-words,  64,  121  ff. 

Loss  of  words,  99  ff. 

Meaning  and  form,  23  f. 
Melanesian  languages,  153 
Mental  horizon,  160  f. 
Metaphor,  90  f.,  126  f. 
Metathesis,  50,  64  f. 


1 84 


LINGUISTIC  CHANGE 


Metonymy,  91,  144  f. 

Mistakes  during  the  learning  of  a 

language,  33  f. 
More  general  meaning  due  to  a 

pleonastic  modifier,  93  f.,  143  f. 
More  specific  meaning  due  to  a 

modifier,  92  f.,  143 
Mutes,  15 

Nasals,  15 

New  words:  due  to  analysis, 
107;  due  to  change  of  model, 
109;  due  to  desire  for  novelty, 
107  f.;  due  to  generalization, 
104  ff .;  due  to  new  ideas,  103  ff., 
i6of.;  due  to  taboo,  108  f.;  from 
analogical  creation,  109  ff.;  from 
composition,  no  ff.;  from 
derivation,  113  ff.;  from  doub- 
lets, 1 21 ;  from  expression  move- 
ments, 128  f.;  from  proper 
names,  125  ff. 

Nouns  from  adjectives,  143 

Onomatopoea,  130 

Open  sounds,  17  ff. 

Original  creation,  127  ff. 

Oscan  alphabet,  8  f.;    gerundive, 

49 
Over-correction,  79  ff. 

Palatals,  16 

Parataxis,  134  f.,  142  f. 
Pennsylvania  "Dutch,"  147 
Persian:   classification  of  Modern, 

154;   writing  of  Middle,  9 
Phoenician  alphabet,  5  f. 
Phonetic  law,  69  ff.,  77  ff.,  83  f. 
Phonetics,  14  ff. 
Phonographic  records,  6  f.,  10 
Phrases,  n 

Picture  writing,  2  ff.,  7  f. 
Pidgin-English,  155 
Pitch,  22  f.,  59  f. 
Popular  etymology,  40,  95  ff. 
Prefix,  118 
Prepositions  from  adverbs,  144 


Primary  change,  29  f. 
Proper  names,  1 24  ff . 

Quantity,  20,  60 

r  from  z,  66  f. 
Regularity,  171  ff. 

Relatives  from  demonstratives, 
142  f. 

Repetition,  49;  avoided,  52  f., 
166  f.,  172 

Reticence,  see  Taboo 

Rhythm,  56  ff. 

Romance  languages:  end  of  mo- 
tion, 163  f.;  loss  of  inflection, 
138 

Sanskrit:     prepositions,     144;    r 

from    z,    66    f.;     reduplicated 

aorists,  60 

Secondary  change,  29  f. 
Semantic  rivalry,  96  ff.,  99  f. 
Semitic:  derivation,  119  f.;  roots, 

119  f. 
Sentence:      linguistic     unit,     n; 

phonetics,  137;    substituted  for 

word,  133  ff. 
Shift   of   emphasis,    86    ff.;     and 

syntax,  139  ff. 
Significant  change  in  the  body  of  a 

word,  118  ff. 

Significant  word-order,  138,  172  f. 
Slang,  107  f. 
Sonorousness,  21,  59,  63 
Sound-change,  see  Change  of  form 
Speech  and  writing,  i  ff. 
Speech-sounds,     13     ff.;      minute 

variations,  6  f. 
Speed  of  utterance,  60  f. 
Spelling:    and  pronunciation,  34, 

65;  reform,  10,  176 
Spirants,  15  f. 
"Sporadic  change,"  73 
Standard  language,  81,  157  f. 
Stem  compounds,  112 


INDEX 


185 


Stops,  15 

Substantive  clauses,  133  ff. 

Substantive  states  of  conscious- 
ness, 40  f. 

Substitution  of  a  sentence  for  a 
word,  133  ff. 

Suffix,  113  ff.;  foreign,  116  f.; 
from  compounds,  114  f.;  from 
doublets,  115  f. 

Surinam  Negro-English,  154 

Swedish:  accent,  57  f.;  economy, 
i7S 

Syllables,  n,  21  f. 

Syncope,  59 

Synecdoche,  91  f. 

Synonymy,  99  f.;  between  sen- 
tences and  words,  133  ff. 

Syntax,  131  ff. 

Synthetic  languages,  advantage  of 
studying,  166 

Taboo,  too  ff.,  108  f. 
Tasmanian,  153 


Timbre,  19 
Transferred  epithet,  145 

Transitive  states  of  consciousness, 
40  f. 

Translation  of  the  Bible,  123  f., 

i75 
Trend  of  linguistic  development, 

159  ff. 

Umbrian  r  from  z,  66 
Umlaut,  47  f.,  119 
Uvulars,  16 

Variant  forms,  115  f.,  121 
Variation    within    a    community, 

148  ff. 
Velars,  16 
Vocal  chords,  14  f. 
Voice,  15 
Vowels,  17  ff. 

Words,  ii  f.;  short,  173  f. 
Writing  and  speech,  i  ff. 


PRIVTF.D  IN  THE  U.S.A. 


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